


Pirates of the Caribbean: Immortal Beloved

by TheMagnificentSoleil



Series: PotC: Jack and Sarah's Adventures [3]
Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: As does Jack, Child Goddess, East India Trading Company, Enduring love, Incestuous relationship, Mild child abuse? Sarah spanks her kids, Pirate adventures, Sarah grows older, Search for Immortaility, Supernatural Child, The Brethren Court is called....again, They gotta deal and Jack ain't good at dealing, growing older
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:40:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 27,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27676181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMagnificentSoleil/pseuds/TheMagnificentSoleil
Summary: What would a teenage demi-goddess want with Jackson Turner? And what might Sarah and Jack, growing older together, be able to do about it?
Relationships: Elizabeth Swann/Will Turner, Jack Sparrow/Original Female Character(s), Joshamee Gibbs/Original Female Character(s)
Series: PotC: Jack and Sarah's Adventures [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1705849
Kudos: 4





	1. Back to Sea

Prologue

Will Turner stretched luxuriously, watching his fishing line bob on the water. He sighed contentedly, wood of the dock warm beneath him, scent of the ocean in his nostrils. It had been a year since he'd ended his duties as the Ferryman, and this was still as close as he cared to get to the water. Perhaps one day he would want to sail the open seas again. For now, he was quite content on land.

It had been a year of many adjustments. The sound of children was first and foremost. He'd Ferried a few children, a heart wrenching task, and they stayed silent. He'd had to adjust to having a bed to sleep in, rather than a bunk, and a warm lovely body to sleep beside. Occasionally the thunder of his own heartbeat startled him. Desire was another thing that took him by surprise. Desire for his wife, for food, for warmth, for sleep when he was tired, these were things that had been lost to him for the years he was Captain of the Dutchman. A mercy he supposed, for otherwise he would have surely run mad.

Another change, one he could not yet bring himself to speak of to anyone, was the knowledge he still retained of the deaths at sea. Before, as the Ferryman, it had been strong and urgent, a bell tolling in his mind. Not so anymore, no compulsion existed to serve that tolling. However, he would sometimes wake in the night, pause in his meals, stumble when he walked. And he would look out to sea, if he could see it, and wait until the faint throbbing cry ended.

Surely those feelings would pass in time, he reasoned. His thoughts were interrupted by a splash on the water's surface, perhaps twenty yards beyond his fishing line. Was it a fish? Had to be a large one to cause a splash that size. There was a ripple on the water again, then Will saw the flash of a silvery tail. Then what looked like a child's head broke the surface briefly.

Will tensed, set his pole aside and stood up preparing to dive. How a child had gotten entangled with a fish he did not know, but to save it from a drowning was his only thought. Those quiet still children aboard the Dutchman were not something easily laid aside, he would not know of more if he could help it. Before he could move, the tail splashed quite close to him, and that head surfaced again, the face clearly visible.

Will stiffened in shock. She rose higher out of the water, and now he could see the tail was attached to her body in place of legs. She caught hold of the edge of the dock and pulled herself up. "Hi Daddy," Joie de Mer said shyly. "I sneaked away from Mommy to come visit you!"

Chapter One - Back to Sea

So that they would not be separated from their friends by both the Caribbean and Atlantic oceans, Elizabeth and Will sold the snug little home Elizabeth had kept. They moved their family to the house in France that Sarah offered to them. It was sold to them "for a franc, and other considerations."

Elizabeth had been tutored in French, but Will was hopelessly lost. Fortunately, Esther could speak it as well, and between the two women he was given the basics on the voyage across the Atlantic. Esther and her husband desired to be closer to Sarah. As well, Will and Elizabeth had Will's father with them, and so had the extra help they needed. With the savings Joshua had hoarded over the years, they bought a house not far from the Sparrow one.

Perhaps it was seeing Calypso again, and being on the water. Perhaps it was something else; say, his restless wild nature. Whatever it was, Jack felt the desire for the storm of adventure stirring in him. The son of angel's luck and devil's cunning felt it as well.

He went to his mother while she tended to mending during her youngest daughter's nap. "Mama, I think Papa's going to sail soon."

Sarah raised her eyes to him without lifting her bent head. "I imagine so. In his sleep he keeps muttering, 'Brace the foreyard.'"

Teague stood up straighter. At eleven he was already nearly as tall as his mother. "I want to go with him."

Startled, Sarah dropped the shirt she held. One of Teague's own, it was. He doggedly pressed on, seeing her face. "I could be his cabin boy!"

She picked the shirt back up and looked for the lost needle. "I can't spare you Teague. You'll have to wait. Thirteen is plenty old enough to turn pirate."

"Mother, I'm old enough already! Tall enough for the duties of cabin boy, and strong enough! Father'll go easy enough on me until I prove myself, I know he will!"

"He will not play favorites with you simply because he sired you, he expects the very best on his ship. Not that it matters, he and I discussed this long ago, and we agreed that if you wanted it, you needed to be thirteen to do it. I would rather you be sixteen, but he talked me down. You'll have to thank him for that."

"Thirteen. That's two years off!" Teague grumbled defiantly.

Down the shirt dropped again, and she rose, lightning in her eyes. Teague backed up a step. "Yes indeed! Time enough for you to think long and hard about this choice! A pirate's son you may be, but you have endless choices! You've seen the brand on your father's arm, do you think he put it there himself, like one of his tattoos? Ask him about the times he's barely escaped hanging. I'm sure there's more than one occasion. The discussion is over. Now run along to your chores!"

Tall as he was, Teague knew full well that his mother would not hesitate to use her hand on him if he continued to argue the matter. Respectfully he nodded to her, and took himself off as told.

Sarah dropped her head onto her hands when he was out of sight. She sighed, her heart heavy. She'd so hoped he would chose a slightly more lawful career. It wasn't that she was ashamed of Jack and what he was, on the contrary. She admired his good man's soul and was intrigued by his wicked wiles. But for her children, she desired them to walk fully informed into their choices, to have their eyes open every moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They dined in candlelight in her sitting room. Jack's eyes wandered over the wall tapestries, the thick pillows scattered about the floor and piled on her couch. Halfway through the meal he sat back in his seat and took a drink of wine.

"Do me now," he requested in a sultry tone.

She raised heated eyes to his. "How?"

"Mouth," he replied in that same lustful voice.

She rose silently from the table, and he pushed his chair back and went quickly to the sofa. He flopped down on it, still holding his wine glass. She lowered her head below his waist, unlacing his breeches and taking him fully between her lips.

A hiss of pleasure revealed her success. Her expertise in oral skills was amazing. Jack held himself back so that it would take a long time. Near the end, he arched his back, moaning, and curled a hand in her hair. The gentle scrape of her teeth on his sensitive head and her hand fisting up and down his shaft finished him.

Afterward, he assembled himself back into fierce pirate. Red bandanna trailing from his hair, scabbard across his chest, pistol tucked within easy reach at his sash, and coat fluttering around his legs. She watched him, leaning against the doorframe.

Placing his treasured hat carefully on his head, he strode to the door, and her. Pausing a moment by her side, he hugged her briefly around the waist, then walked out, letting his hand trail up her side and across her bosom as he moved away.

Sarah turned and smiled at his retreating back. "See you later, pirate," she murmured fondly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Perhaps three weeks later, an unexpected visitor arrived at her doorstep. Mr. Cotton looked old and mournful, dead macaw held reverently in his outstretched hands. "Oh, Joseph. Poor Joseph." Sarah drew him into the warmth of the house.

He had left the Black Pearl after the parrot died, and made his way back to her. "I should have known," she apologized as she wrapped the bird in an old towel and searched for a proper casket for the small thing. "I should have known to give Youth water to your parrot as well!"

Though he lacked a tongue, Mr. Cotton was still in possession of a larynx. He could make noise, and did, weeping despairingly into his hands.

"We'll get you another one!" Mary crooned softly, climbing into his lap and putting tender little hands on his whisker rough cheeks. "You'll talk again, Grampa Cotton!"

"Meantime, you can accompany us on our voyage." Sarah told him. "The Sarah's Swann is just in, and I've arranged for us to go to the South China sea." She glanced with severity at her eldest child. "Teague needs to see more of pirates, and it's time he saw more of his grandfather."

Teague looked a bit confused. The children had known only Gibbs and Cotton as grandparents, but they knew the fact of their ancestry if not the reality.


	2. Going Visiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah visits Shipwreck Cove to spend time with Captain Teague. There are also bathhouses, bawdy pirate women, and a backstory on Mr. Cotton.

Captain Rajeev was only willing to take them so far however. When the sight of the Devil's Throat loomed, he refused to go any further. "Begging your pardon Miss Sarah, but it's too dangerous! I'm afeared for you to be going at all!"

"Oh fine!" snapped Sarah, exasperated. "Give me a boat then! I'll take myself the rest of the way! You've two weeks to return, or there'll be the devil to pay!"

So they rowed into Shipwreck Cove, Cotton insisting on taking the oars. Just like last time, the Keeper of the Code had advance warning of their arrival from some unknown source, and met them at the lopsided dock. He put out a hand and lifted Sarah delicately to stand beside him, mindful of the small child she held.

"About time you came back, Sarah." That voice could still cause her stomach to tremble.

"You remember me? How delightful!"

"You're a hard one to forget, green eyes. You been looking after my Jackie?"

"I gave him three children. How's that for a start?"

Captain Teague nodded gravely. "Aye, I reckon that's adventure enough even for Jack."

He brought her to his ship home, a sloop named Sea Strumpet, a name that made her quirk her lips upwards. It was clear that Captain Teague did not lack for female company even in his old age, for the touch of a woman's hands was apparent everywhere.

What was most curious was that to Sarah's eye, experienced as she was in keeping a home, there was more than one woman. Several different females cooked, cleaned, and entertained here. Currently, there was no sign of them visible, but for the steaming kettle on the small ship's stove. Captain Teague poured hot water into mismatched cups while her children began to poke curious fingers everywhere.

The man turned to serve Sarah, only to find that his grandchildren had scattered. Teague was respectfully admiring the stash of guitars, but Mary and Jackie were actively handling his boots and a spare hat. "Here now!" he exclaimed, setting the cups down hastily.

He grabbed Jackie just as the feathered hat slipped down over her face when she plopped it on her head. "You're just like my Jack. Into everything. Have you no sense of personal space, girl?" His tone was fondly exasperated.

An odd choking sound issued from Cotton standing quietly in the corner. He was laughing. Sarah could not hold back her own giggles either. Captain Teague looked in astonishment at them, then broke out in deep guffaws of amusement. He sat down with the same grace of a tiger that Jack possessed, still holding Jackie, albeit gingerly.

The two year old immediately began playing with his rings. He stared bemusedly at his granddaughter. "I suppose Jack has told you all about me. What a terrible father I was."

Sarah's eyes widened slightly at this unexpected candor. The truth was, Jack rarely spoke of his father. Early in their marriage, he'd told her a few snippets only. "On the contrary Captain, your son speaks of you with utmost respect. He has mentioned, on a personal note, that you were...emotionally distant...with him."

The ghost of a smile touched the man's lips as his other granddaughter crept closer to his knee. She was gazing at him with frank curiosity in those big brown eyes. "I suppose as a pirate captain, I felt that I could not let down my guard. And I didn't know how to tell him, that I loved him."

He glanced at Sarah who sat quietly listening. She took a sip of the drink he'd offered her, tongue savoring the exquisite warmth. Chocolate and alcohol had been combined with exquisite skill in this drink. Teague continued, "The wisdom of old age and hindsight helps me not a whit with him now."

"If it helps any," she offered, "he seems to have learned the lesson. He's quite affectionate with his own children."

"Can you play these?" little Teague interrupted suddenly. He was still in front of the guitars, looking eagerly at his namesake.

"I can indeed, young man," heartily he put aside the little girls crawling on him and picked up an instrument. "This one, I made when your father was only a bit older than you are now." He strummed his fingers, producing magic, and the children settled by Sarah, looking rapt.

For the full two weeks she'd given her employee to return, Sarah stayed with Teague. He showed her all over the town, and she met a few of the very pirates that had tried to tempt her from Jack when she'd been here last. By the arm around her shoulder and the steely glint in his eye, Captain Teague made it clear to all that she and all with her were under his protection.

Perhaps the most exciting part of the visit, for Sarah, was when Captain Teague showed her the bathhouses. He explained that there were separate buildings for men and women, and cross gender visits were permitted only by invitation. With a raised brow, she asked if he'd ever been in the women's bathhouse? With a smirk that was so familiar to her, he gravely assured her that he had indeed. Then innocently shooed her towards the doorway, and said that he would look after little Teague in the men's bathhouse.

It was absolutely beautiful inside, patterned after Roman bathhouses Sarah had read about. Smooth tiles and elegant wooden benches surrounded a deep sunken pool. Through a low arch on the far side, a smaller pool, which was clearly quite hot, steamed. Several women were lounging there, and they turned to watch Sarah as she led her daughters further in.

To her right was an alcove to undress and gather towels and soap, and here she ducked to compose herself. These women were pirate wives, like herself, and though she was delighted at the prospect of female companionship, she was also nervous. Jack Sparrow was quite notorious, and it was clear from the last time they were here in Shipwreck Town that many pirates would like nothing better than to knock him down from his high status. Surely some form of this competition existed even among the women. 

When she approached them, holding Mary's hand and balancing Jackie on her hip, all of them draped in naught but towels, she held her head regally. One of the women spoke to her. "There's a smaller pool just here, for the little ones. It's not so hot."

She indicated it with a wave of her hand, the children's pool separated from the larger by a narrow ledge. Sitting on the edge to dangle her legs, Sarah murmured her thanks and allowed her daughters to slip into the water. A bench ran around the side which Jackie could stand on and splash in the water without fear of it going over her head. Mary played in the deeper part, which was still shallow enough for her.

"You're Jack Sparrow's woman, aren't you?" Another lady asked, eyes bright with excitement. Fat red curls bounced on her freckled shoulders as she leaned forward eagerly. "What's he like?"

"Oh please!" The one who had first spoken to Sarah rolled her eyes expressively. She was a shapely blonde. "We all know what he's LIKE, after all!" Bawdy laughter followed her comment.

Sarah was not offended. She knew full well how lusty a man Jack was, after all. And the ease in which these women acknowledged that put her at ease, rather than put her off. She smiled along with the laughter. "He's just a man like any other, I suppose. Wants his belly fed once a day and his cock pleased thrice." She leaned conspiratorially closer to keep her innocent children from hearing the ribald words.

That definitely included her in the group, and there was more bawdy laughter. "And these are his daughters?" inquired the blonde.

The redhead leaned closer and studied them as they played. "Oh yes, unmistakable. Hmph! They could blend in among Teague's begotten, so alike they are!"

Sarah was surprised. "Captain Teague has more children?"

"Oh aye!" The redhead said jovially. "I've three of them myself! That man started with Jack and won't stop...not till about ten minutes after they lay him in the ground!"

Many tales were exchanged. Sarah learned much more about the workings of this remote, secure pirate place. Children thrived here, there was even a school. And surprisingly, or perhaps not if you considered the power a female wielded in her home, the small society encased in the dormant volcano was strongly matriarchal in flavor. Sarah also learned another story, about Mr. Cotton.

The story was told by an older woman, plump and grey haired. Her lightly wrinkled face was serene as she spoke. "Joe Cotton was a very boastful man when he was younger. A Pirate Lord who shall remain nameless acquired, at great personal risk and effort, a pair of pink diamonds, the most rare diamonds in the world. From this infamous pirate, Cotton stole the diamonds. An amazing feat indeed, but unfortunately he told far too many people of his trick. The pirate captured Cotton, and demanded the location of his treasure. Cotton refused, but bragged that it would never be found. In a rage, the man ordered that Cotton's tongue be cut out."

The older woman shook her head sorrowfully. "A poor decision indeed, for now the secret of the pink diamonds will never be known."


	3. Children's Tales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see how Will Turner is coping with being back on land and a mortal. We see how his family is adjusting.

The hammer rang joyfully in the forge, echoing against the walls. At last, at last he was back doing the work he loved best, the work he'd begun just past his childhood. Will glowed like the red hot metal as the blade of the sword took shape beneath his efforts. Sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped down into his eyes, he paid it little heed.

As he worked, he chanted the names of the things around him, translating them to French, practicing the habit of actually thinking in that language. Anvil. Enclume. Hammer. Marteau. Bright glowing metal. Bright métal rougeoyant. Folded steel. Replié acier. That for him had been the bitterest struggle when he and his family had settled here. His father still had not mastered it, and was resigned to being only haltingly fluent.

The sound of the shop door opening caught his attention, and he paused in his strokes. Willy was coming in, and it looked to be quite windy outside, from his disheveled hair and the way he was clinging to his jacket. His son pushed the door shut against the biting wind and turned to face him. "Maman dit qu'une tempête se prépare. Elle veut que tu rentres." (Mother says a storm is brewing. She wants you to come home.)

The meaning came easily, now, after so much practice. He knew he should speak French, but with his children he preferred to be at ease. In English he replied, "All right. I'll be done shortly, just want to finish this one. Sit by the fire, Willy."

The sturdy boy settled on the hearth by the warmth of the fire and watched his father with great interest. Having him home day in and day out was still a precious gift that Willy clung to, and was sometimes afraid would not last. Every day he squeezed in as much time with him as lessons and chores allowed. He well remembered what it was like when he was younger, and his mother was a thin sad shadow who told him tales of a noble man who might come back one day.

Those voyages at sea, on a pirate ship, to see his father were his most treasured early memories. Little could mar them for him. He sat quietly and observed his hero at work. Sharp eyes made note of every move he made. How he wanted to follow in his father's footsteps, and make weapons as beautiful and strong as his! He was old enough, and would soon ask his father if he could apprentice with him. Willy wiggled with joy at the thought, knowing how happy it would make his papa. 

Will finished his work and plunged the new blade in a tub of cool water, sending up great plumes of steam. He was wreathed momentarily in it, presenting a ghostly figure with a grim face. Willy was sharply reminded of how he had looked on those voyages, when he captained a strange, deathly ship. "Papa!" he blurted, suddenly scared.

"What's the matter?" Only a moment, and there was his father, looking concerned.

Willy bit his lips. "Nothing. Are you ready?"

The beloved man broke into a grin, looking boyish still. "Come on, let's go relieve your mother's worry over our whereabouts." He grasped his son's hand and they went out the door together. Above them, as he locked the door securely, the sign thumped steadily against the wall, driven by wind. William Turner, Master Blacksmith.

"What was it like, Papa? When you were...when you were Captain on that ship?" Willy's heart thudded in his chest. A stormy night, walking home in the dark, was hardly the time for such chilling tales. But he wanted the thrill, wanted his blood to freeze and then race faster, all the while clinging to that warm hand that promised with it's strength to keep him warm and safe always. He wanted to gasp at shadows, only to turn to the comfortable face and laugh at his fears with him. 

The man walking with him sighed heavily. "I've often thought you would ask that question. I've thought of many different answers I could give you, including that you are too young to know, and that it is none of your business."

Willy's heart sank at those words. The next words made him hold his breath in hope. "But neither of those answers is the right one. Your curiosity deserves to be answered. I just...don't know how."

A spattering of rain hit them, cold and sharp in their faces. They walked a few more paces in silence. Will took a deep breath. "It was like...well I spend a great deal of time in an otherworldly sea. Like dreaming, like being rocked in an enormous loving hand, all the while in sight of a shore wreathed in a gold glow and obscuring fog."

Willy was spellbound. Why, it wasn't scary at all! His father went on. "I didn't take bodies, I took souls aboard my ship. And they were as substantial as flesh, but looked...different...felt, sounded." He trailed off, having no words in any language nor any comparison for this world. "Most of them went willingly to that other shore, but at times," he glanced sideways at the eagerly listening boy. "Sometimes the shore was not golden but black, with the sound of tormented cries. That was when men swore to serve before the mast, and I gained crewmates."

Their house appeared in the distance, bright lights twinkling in the windows, a safe port against the increasing force of the storm. Father and son bent against the power of the wind as increasingly colder rain slicked them shiny. They reached the front door and were welcomed by a smiling Elizabeth and young Jack.

Inside it was warm and bright and welcome. It was what Elizabeth had always represented to him. She drew him in and caressed him, kissed him. They sat down to dinner, such a pleasant normalcy that it was nigh on heart breaking. Looking around at the happy faces of his wife, father, and children, Will recalled the swaying wood under his feet, the creak of ropes and the smell of tar and the ever present saltwater that would not dry off no matter how hot the sun burned him. He was healed another tiny fraction, made just that tiny little bit more whole.


	4. Winter Holidays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack comes home in time for Christmas.

His home beckoned him with light from the windows, and the smell of smoke from the chimney. He was cold, so cold. Spain was colder than the Caribbean during winter, and Jack felt the effects strongly. He reached the door and opened it, stepping in to find chaos ruling within.

Sarah was attempting to fold laundry, while Teague fussed and cried on the low sofa before the fire. Had he been ill? His boy looked pale. Mary had evidently been taking a bath, but had left her tub and was currently dripping all over the clean piles of laundry. Jackie was busily unfolding everything her mother had just carefully folded, while Mary bossed her and Sarah tried to manage all three of them at once. Jack could not help bursting into laughter at the scenario.

Sarah's head flung up at the sound, and she knocked over the basket of clothes in her eagerness to reach him. His daughters swarmed after her, and Teague got up in his nightgown and came more slowly, coughing but still calling to his father. Jackie was quite anxious that she not be left out, and was shouting at the top of her lungs, "Me too! Me too!"

Jack scooped her up and tossed her repeatedly in the air, changing her anxious hollering to gurgles of joy. "For such a small thing, you've a voice like a storm itself, eh?"

Sarah noticed him shivering and immediately shooed him towards the fire. She bent to place more wood on it and build it up but Jack settled his young daughter on his arm and grabbed her wrist. "Can do tha' Sarah. You look done in."

"Done in, that's kind. I'm a fright." She tried to smooth her tangled hair and brushed self consciously at the stains on her gown. Deep circles lay under her eyes. The house was immaculate, she had been cleaning and baking all day in anticipation of Navidad. "I've got to get a towel for Mary." She moved away and Jack flopped down on the sofa while Teague curled up under the blanket again.

She fetched him a cup of hot coffee, liberally laced with rum of course, and Jack drank it gratefully while he recounted his latest adventures to his children. Sarah finished with the clothes while listening. Of course, none of them wanted to go to bed that night and fought off sleep with sudden bouts of hyperactivity. It was always so when their father first returned. He held each of them, singing a sea chanty in a low voice, and then helped her gather rosy cheeked nodding little ones into beds.

At last they were alone and free to reunite for themselves. Clothes were stripped off, lingering kisses shared, until they tumbled naked and free beneath the covers of their bed. Her skin slid against his as she wrapped her arms snugly around his waist and wound her legs around his thighs.

"God, you're so soft Sarah," he groaned appreciatively. She was suckling at his neck, down low near the line of his chest. His member stirred interestedly where it was pressed between her thighs.

More exploring of each other's bodies occurred. Jack lay on his stomach and Sarah rubbed his shoulders while her bare bottom rubbed his lower back. Then she was on her back, Jack straddling her hips and gently taking each finger of both hands one by one into his mouth and suckling. Jack leaned back slightly, encouraging her to trail her hands all over his chest and stomach, down over his hips to his thighs. It was meant to be a light soothing caress but it left him rampant with desire.

In the end, she lay on her stomach while Jack again straddled her hips, backwards. He was touching the backs of her legs, tormenting really, for his fingers were tracing erotic designs that made her tremble with lust. Suddenly he captured her ankles and tucked them securely under his elbows, trapping her feet. Lightly he traced his fingertips over the tender soles.

Sarah yelped with laughter and attempted to pull away. She was hardly in a position to do so, and besides, Jack was far too heavy for her to shift. Jack continued to scrabble his fingers, now attacking the soft arches. He was beginning to chuckle at his wife's predicament. Sarah was red-faced with helpless giggling, fists weakly pounding the mattress. Her toes were curling defensively which he found absolutely adorable. Finally he released her and moved swiftly so his body covered hers from head to toe.

He held her while she caught her breath, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of her hair. An impatient wiggle made him rise back up, and he looked at her back. Fine white lines interrupted her smooth skin. Jack stared at them for a moment, remembering the night he told Sarah that sex with him would mark her a pirate's woman. He never would have guessed he was speaking prophetically.

She rolled fluidly in his arms, rubbing pleasantly against his body until she faced him. Her creamy thighs parted beneath him. "Were you waiting for something Jack?" she inquired with an arched eyebrow.

"Not at all love," he answered, settling himself more fully between her legs and entering her. He thrust hard, knowing she liked it that way, but kept the pace slow. He leaned on his elbows, cradling Sarah's face between his forearms, kissing her as they made love. She undulated sweetly up into him on every stroke, softly moaning and eagerly opening her lips for his mouth. Twice she tightened up her whole body and squealed and he swallowed her sounds with groans of his own.

"You're so eager Sarah," he said roughly several minutes later. She undid his bandanna and ran her fingers through his damp hair.

"You make me eager, Jack. You're good to me." Her hands moved to his shoulders and held tight. Jack moved faster over her, his breath coming fast and short now. Sarah was making those characteristic growling noises that signaled an impending explosion. Jack shifted down her hips a bit, seeking a new angle, and drove himself in and out quickly.

"Oh God!" Sarah cried, eyes rolling back in her head. "Oooh Jack, there! There!" And she was shuddering and quaking and the hot hungry heat tightening around him was so good.

Jack moaned and cupped her small shoulders, keeping her from bouncing away from his now fast and furious movements. "I love how you come," he gritted. "Your face...your voice....mmm it's so good!" He moaned again, loudly, "Feels like waves breaking on my cock!"

Every and all rational thought fled. All he was aware of was the soft warm body compliant under him, the tight sweet hole he drove into over and over. Tiny little Sarah took all he could give and gave back just as good, held down while he fucked and fucked and fucked. His body tightened all over, heat coiled in his balls, and the pleasure they shared was like sheets of flame consuming their bodies. Sarah held him close as he bucked in exquisite release.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They slept entwined where passion's spending left them. So it often was when he returned home. Sometime in the night Mary woke and crept to her parent's bedroom. She stood by her father's head, being very quiet. She was so quiet she was the quietest thing in the room. So quiet that Jack startled awake to find her staring at him solemnly.

"Are you all right Princess? Did you have a bad dream?" Jack sat up, easing Sarah's body from his and placing her head on the pillow. Carefully he covered himself with a sheet, and Sarah as well. While as parents they agreed it made no sense to raise their children as if their bodies were shameful, there was also something to be said for at least a little modesty. Frankly, Jack did not care for just anyone to see him nude and vulnerable, so the arrangement suited him.

"Papa, I want to hug you. Can I sleep with you and Mama?" She rubbed her big brown eyes and yawned, already beginning to climb up next to him.

"Just a moment love," he pulled on his breeches and took his daughter into his lap. "You can cuddle awhile, I don't mind that. But then it's off to your own bunk, savvy?"

"Si, Papa," she snuggled herself into his chest and laid her head trustingly on his shoulder.

Jack melted into his daughter's sweet hug. He laid his cheek on her head, stroked her back slowly, and felt the silkiness of her hair. It lay straight quite a long ways down her back. Sarah had rebraided the blue bauble he had given her, as Mary's hair grew longer, so it always rested against the curve of her neck.

He felt her breathing even into deep slow snuffles as she lay in his arms with one hand petting softly along her little body. Eventually, he shifted so he could stand up. He laid Mary back into her bed and returned to find that Sarah had shifted, causing the sheet to slide down and expose her lovely breasts.

Delighted, he lay down next to her to savor them with his soft lips and bristly mustache. The natural consequence of that was her waking, and he slid down her body to drape her legs over his shoulders and continued to taste her. It was a very pleasant interlude, finishing with her hand on him touching in all the ways he liked best.


	5. Feliz Navidad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sparrow family celebrate a Spanish Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a VERY weird Spanish traditions around Christmas, that being a Santa like figure that...squats behind the Nativity to deliver...let's say it's a Yule log. I left that bit out. You're welcome. LOL

Sarah woke quite slowly the next morning. She truly had been so tired last night, and Jack's attentions to her body left lingering, albeit wonderful, aftereffects. It didn't help that beside her in the bed, a warm golden body was curled. He smelled of sea spray, sweet rum, and sex.

She pressed close to his lean whipcord body. She could stay surrounded by that warm sleek strength all day. However, hunger and the need to supervise her mischievous brood drove her to her feet. While she was dressing, Jack stirred and woke. He watched her at her morning toilette for a bit, then came up behind her. Without even needing to be asked, he tugged the laces of her bodice tighter and tied them, then slid his arms around her and nuzzled her neck. He sighed deeply.

"Are you happy, Sarah?" he asked in a low voice.

Her eyebrows shot up. She half turned her head, reaching back and lightly touching his cheek with her fingertips. "Que pasa, Jack Sparrow? Woken in an introspective mood?"

"I must confess..for several years I've been cruising the Spanish Main, picking off merchants, fleeing from the Royal Navy, then coming home. It's no' enough. I'm bored."

Sarah's stomach contracted painfully. Her chest tightened, she wasn't sure she remembered how to breathe. "Oh," she said in a very small voice.

His hands tightened on her. "Not wit' you, I hasten to add!" He realized belatedly how his words must have sounded and dragged her around for a kiss. "Not with you. You're the most exciting woman I've ever known, bar none, love."

She couldn't bring herself to look at him yet. He'd frightened her badly. He was still talking. "I just want a bit more adventure."

"Without the specter of death hanging over one or both of us?" she remarked dryly. Her heart was beginning to calm now.

"Aye, exactly!!" He grinned and waved his hands as if in applause for her smart answer. "I figure we can hare off and see parts of the world you've never been to. The Orient, perhaps. Not been there in years."

Sarah went to the looking glass and began brushing out her hair. Jack went to the pile of clothes on the chair and dug something out of his pouch. "Brought you a gift, darling." He raised his fist, and chains of fine gold dangled from his fingers. Diamonds glistened at regular intervals along the links. "Want to braid them in your lovely hair...see them glistening when I look at you, make all the townsfolk jealous."

He moved up behind her once again, and took her brush from her. Sarah closed her eyes and tipped her head back. Sometimes he did this for her, tended to her mane. The first time, it had surprised her that a pirate would know so much about doing ladies hair. But she knew that his own wild look actually took time and attention to maintain, and in fact was something he was quite proud of. He gently moved his hands through her hair, pulling most of it up into a neat chignon at the base of her skull, with the rest tumbling down around her face to her shoulders. He braided the jewelry on either side of her bun, tucking it carefully in so it was not instantly visible, but glittered for any who were looking.

By the time he was done, she was lighthearted and reassured once again. He'd kept sneaking kisses and nibbles at her neck, and tenderly stroking her hair as he dressed it. "Gracias, Jack. Now I'd better see what our ninos are up to!"

Sure enough, Teague had gotten his baby sister up and was trying to toast the bread. Meanwhile, Mary was searching the larder for Sarah's homemade fruit preserves. Jackie sucked her thumb, staring at Teague as he held the toasting fork.

Their mother put her hands on her hips and shook her head in amusement. She was cutting up fruit for a light repast when Jack finished his own grooming and wandered from the bedroom. Traditionally, people tended to eat lightly or not at all for Navidad, saving the feasting for after the midnight worship.

"We're going into town today, Jack," she commented as she offered him a handful of currents, cranberries, and sliced plums. "Come with us?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She wrapped serapes around Teague and Mary, Jack put Jackie up on his shoulders, and Sarah donned the mantilla, a black lace shawl worn over her hair. Jack noted that the diamonds sill winked through the lace. They strolled down the street, the elder children skipping ahead of them happily.

At the market, they chose a large quantity of turrón, a sticky treat made from almonds, honey, and eggs. Sarah was indulgent and passed out pieces to each child, and Jack as well, who was licking his lips and looking hopefully at the sticky bars. Afterward, the children found some of their friends and played around the booths of the market, while Sarah and her pirate meandered about more slowly.

"Well?" he pressed eagerly. "What do you think about going on a bit of adventure with me? We could have a great run on the way, and land with enough swag for me to dress you in silk and furs!"

"And shall we take the children with us again on this venture?" she murmured, knowing the answer. One of her neighbors passed them, nodding a courteous greeting while her eyes took curious note of Jack at her side. 

"Well...they have sailed with us before...but truth be told, I made it easy. I chose easy targets when we pirated those times, and took greater risks before you were brought aboard, so the crew would indulge us. Besides, I was thinking of this voyage being just the two of us." His voice became a coaxing wheedle that she knew she would not be able to resist for long. "Think of it, eh? Just like when we first met!"

"Who looks after them then, Jack? We'd be gone for months, I'm not at all sure I can leave them so long!"

He stopped her, and pointed both index fingers in her face in emphasis. "The Turners owe us a favour or several. And you know they'd be well cared for."

She smiled, but pushed past him and kept walking. "If it comes to that, I'd rather Joshua and Esther come to the house and look after them. They only have Becky, and they're closer."

"Then you'll go with me?" he asked eagerly. Just then, another couple that Sarah was friendly with strolled past. This time, the exchange was more than a nod. Though the gentleman looked a bit uncomfortable, his lady dragged him eagerly over to the couple.

"Buen día Senora Sparrow. Este es tu marido?" (Good morning Mrs. Sparrow. Is this your husband?)

Sarah smiled awkwardly. "Buenos días. Sí, se trata de Jack, justo a casa después de un viaje." (Good morning. Yes, this is Jack, just home from a voyage.)

Eagerly, the Spanish matron turned shiny eyes to Jack. She might have assaulted him with many questions in a language he was not terribly good at, but for the sudden clamor, ending in the loud sobs of what was unmistakably one of his children. Jack leaped towards the sound, rounding a booth to see a fruit cart just beyond. Evidently Jackie had tried to pick an apple, chosen one that held back the pile, which then tumbled down onto her.

She was surrounded by apples and wailing brokenly. Jack scooped up his baby and murmured soothing nonsense to her. "Tha's all right, my little precious, only apples, naught can hurt ye when Papa's near." Jacqueline whined a few more times, wiggled deeper into his embrace, then sighed softly. He tucked her under his chin and turned to see Sarah moving towards him. The other couple were walking off, but the Senora was casting longing eyes back at them.

"Senora Alveraz wishes me to bid you a good day, Jack," Sarah said, using rather mocking tones and a slight smile. "She will no doubt call on us at a later date, to catch up on all the latest news you might bring from far ports." Jack groaned. "I distinctly heard her remark to her husband, as they moved off, that you were quite 'distinguished looking.' Ahem."

"Shall I have an answer to my proposal now, luv?" he asked plaintively.

Sarah hesitated. "It's the holidays, dear Captain." She knew how he loved it when she called him Captain. "Let me think about it, and I'll answer you after the New Year."

Jack nodded, and placed a hand at the small of her back. They kept walking, and Jackie wiggled to get down. She trotted off after her siblings on her short little legs. "There's no real hurry. I planned to winter with you, I'll not be leaving again until spring."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they returned home, Teague showed his father the finished Nativity scene and asked him to set it up with him. Jack was most agreeable, and very intrigued by the various pieces his son proudly showed him. Teague had made most of the figures himself, the rest had been bought at the market.

"Excellent detail, my boy," Jack commented, turning the Virgin Mary over and over in his fingers. "You've got the folds of her veil, a smile on her face, even little feet carved out here."

Teague grinned proudly, his chest puffing out as his father admired his work. His eyes could not be glowing more brightly. "And did you notice Papa? She looks like Mama!"

"I did notice. And the Holy Infant bears a striking resemblance to wee Jacqueline," he observed with a twist of his lips. "You obviously enjoy the woodworking, Teague."

"I want to set up a little shop, Mama wants me to 'pprentice to the local woodworker, but..." his son trailed off and turned swiftly to the Nativity, busying himself.

"But what, son?"

Teague's voice was low. "I want to sail like you, Papa."

"No reason you can't do both." Jack kept his voice carefully neutral. "I'm sure you can imagine that woodworking, especially of your quality, would be highly valued on a ship."

His son peeked shyly at him over his shoulder, a gesture quite reminiscent of Sarah. And as he thought of her, she appeared. "Have you finished setting it up? 'Tis time for siesta." She cast a heated glance at Jack.

She settled the children for a nap, no easy feat. Completing it, she took Jack's hand almost demurely. "Come, husband. We have a siesta of our own."


	6. Family Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Joie de Mer converse more and more often. Will feels guilty in not sharing this with Elizabeth. Joie displays her supernatural powers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry belated Christmas everyone! Sorry I didn't post on Friday. Been a bit busy! Hope you all enjoy!

"Going fishing again?" Elizabeth gave him a rueful smile as she wrapped up a cold lunch for him to bring with him.

"Does it bother you?" Will asked her a bit anxiously. Fishing was the perfect excuse for him to sneak away. If Elizabeth objected, he would have to invent other errands to take him out of the house, or else steal from his work time. Either that or tell her what he'd been doing while on his fishing trips.

Now there was a thought. He and his wife had hidden things from each other before, and it led to nothing but misery. Will knew that he far preferred the trust of being in her confidence, and was assured that the feeling was mutual for her. But Calypso's daughter was a complicated subject, and he didn't know how to bring her up to Elizabeth. So he went on deceiving her in increasingly bigger ways, feeling increasingly guilty.

"Well I miss you," she answered, startling him out of his thoughts. She smiled gently at him and leaned up for a kiss. "You're going out now nearly every week, but you hardly ever come back with fish!"

"Oh...right." Will shifted his weight, feeling a tad foolish. He'd better make sure he caught at least a few fish before getting caught up in visiting Joie today!

He took the lunch she provided and made for the door. Just before he opened it, he was waylaid by his small, soft spoken boy. Little Jack, only four years old, stretched imploring arms to him. "Want to go fishin too Papa." He gazed up at Will with his placid caramel eyes.

Will knelt down and took the boy into his arms. His throat tightened a bit in love. Now he was fooling this one? "Not this time Jack. I promise I'll take you next time though."

Willy might have argued, but little Jack had a calm accepting nature. "All right Papa," and a trusting one as well.

With a final kiss and rub of his cheek over the small boy's face, Will walked out with his fishing pole over his shoulder. Once out of sight of his home he began jogging. As he neared the little pond where she had told him to meet her, Will reflected on his relationship with Joie. Siring her was the last thing he'd ever wanted, and in fact was almost unable to perform the necessary actions with Calypso to achieve it.

The goddess had tried to help him, and had even taken Elizabeth's form towards the end. *That* had certainly had the desired effect but had appalled him just the same. Fortunately, it had taken only two acts of copulation before his seed quickened Calypso's womb. Will had gone on his way, vastly relieved, and truly believing that was the end of it. He had given the sea goddess her companion, and was as free as he could be, given the circumstances, to have Elizabeth and make a family with her.

What he hadn't expected was Joie to be so winsome, so desirous of knowing the man who'd created her. He reached the pond and sat down on a large overcropping rock. Idly he kicked his feet and waited for her to arrive. A few minutes later, he noticed movement by his hand and glanced down. It was only a little brown rock crab, scuttling along. He moved his hand to let it pass, but it veered closer to him.

Startled, he moved off the rock completely, and the crab suddenly changed shape and became Joie, who giggled at the look on his face. Will grinned, laughed with her, and reached out to ruffle her hair. He was startled anew at how much she resembled his sons. And suddenly struck by the realization that she seemed more mature than his Jackson, though actually slightly younger than him. Did demi goddesses mature faster than mortals?

That thought made him uncomfortable, reminding him as it did of her essential strangeness. He regarded her for a moment. She was slightly built and a tad skinny, wearing a long white dress that left her arms bare. A smattering of freckles dusted across her nose and her wheat colored hair was done up in dreadlocks, seashells clanking amongst the braids.

She looked so utterly normal. Also her first words to him were exactly like any normal little girl's. "Hi Daddy! Did you bring me anything?"

He couldn't help smiling at her, and opened his arms to her. "Only my love for you, sweetie." And froze, as the truth of what he'd said unwittingly broke through him. He loved her. He loved his daughter.

Joie answered his invitation and jumped into his arms, hugging him with both arms and legs. Will snuggled her close. She was *his* daughter.

They sat on the sun drenched rock and talked awhile. "It's almost Christmas Joie."

"What's Christmas Daddy?" It tugged at his heartstrings when she called him that, because his sons called him the French word, Papa.

Her question made him hesitate. How would he explain the Christian god to a creature like her? It would be too much like her own story, only backwards. Instead of a mortal bearing the seed of a god, a goddess had borne the seed of a mortal.

Slowly, he tried to couch his answer in terms she could follow. "Christmas is a time for family togetherness. And it's the act of giving gifts to your loved ones. We decorate the house and sing a lot of carols."

She looked sideways up at him. "Then I'm Christmas."

"What do you mean by that?"

She explained, "My mother says that you gave me to her as a gift. So if Christmas is about giving gifts to ones you love, I am Christmas."

Will was stunned by the insight and maturity she displayed. He turned his attention to his quiescent fishing pole and sought to change the subject. "I hope I catch something today. My wife is growing impatient with me for bringing nothing home." Immediately he regretted his words. Since family was the subject they were on, surely she would wonder, and ask, why Will's wife was someone other than her mother?

But what Joie did was rather more amazing. She glanced at the pole almost disinterestedly. "You want fish? I will get some for you." She gestured at the bucket next to him. The water under his feet suddenly boiled and several fish leaped up out of the water and landed in his bucket. Nice, fat fish with bright scales, with just enough water to keep them alive until he got home and gutted them. Fresh fish for dinner, courtesy of a creature that might look human, but possessed supernatural powers. And she was yet young, what would she think to do as she matured?

Shaken as he was by her display of power, Will nonetheless enjoyed himself greatly with Joie. She chattered at him, telling him more about the island where she lived with Calypso, an island he's seen only from the deck of the Pearl and the Flying Dutchman. Once or twice she made mention of sea bottom wonders, with a penetrating look. Only the sea goddess, the child, and the former Ferryman had seen the wonders of that underwater land. It deepened the connection between them.

Three hours passed in pleasantries. Suddenly Joie's eyes went wide and she cocked her head. "Mama's calling me! I gotta go!" She stood and blew him a kiss, jumped off the dock. In midair she flashed back into crab form, splashing only a bit when she hit the water.

Bemused, Will gathered up his pole, net, and full bucket to head for home.


	7. Midnight Mass and Carol of the Birds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sparrow clan attends Mass. Well, most of them. Then Sarah performs a holy ritual, which turns Jack on. Of course.

When Jack realized that his wife intended to bring his children to a midnight mass in the town cathedral, he became quite a bit put out. "Explain yourself to me, Sarah," he demanded sharply.

She sighed inwardly. Fortunately Teague and the girls were out of earshot for this one. She detested arguing in front of them. "Because it's good for them, Jack."

He sputtered. "How can it be good for them to hear about empty promises?"

She stared stonily at him. He backtracked just a tad. "You've met a goddess yourself, love. Negotiated with her, seen her weaknesses. What makes you think this god is any better than her?"

Softly she answered, "And who's to say that Calypso is not subject to the Lord of all?"

Jack waved his arms in frustration as he paced around their room. "Oh aye, Lord of wind and waves and land and mountains, sure fine! Bring 'em up to follow the superstitious, beauticious, fearful, closed minded, supercilious, empty headed, priggish.." he trailed off.

"Are you quite finished?"

He pasted a large fake smile on his lips. "I am. Take them. Let them bow their heads to the Holy of Holies, unless of course you want and desire for them to revere and honor and astound at something of value other than infants on pedestals in the finding of-"

Sarah put a finger firmly on his lips and he stopped speaking. "Don't give me that Sparrow double talk. The more words you speak, the more likely it is that you're only telling me what you think I want to hear." She removed her finger, he stayed silent. "If you don't wish to go to the Mass, then don't. Simple." With an enigmatic smile much like his own, she turned and walked out.

Jack stood there, bemused, then grinned lopsidedly and stretched out on the bed. He decided to catch up with her after the service. He knew that traditionally, a large pot of stew was served to the community afterward, a feast to make up for the fasting of the day.

When Sarah emerged from the cathedral, her tired children clinging to her skirts, a shadow separated itself from the other shadows near the door and approached her. The cadence of the steps told her exactly who it was. He grinned goldenly at her as he shifted Jackie's sleeping weight from her shoulder and took the burden of the child into his own arms. She teased him a bit. "Come to confess, Captain Sparrow?"

"I've come for the food, o' course." He looked wounded. "My sins are between myself and the sea. And a certain lass with sea green eyes."

They moved closer to the bonfire, where a few volunteers were ladling thick stew into wooden bowls and passing them out. Sarah collected two for Teague and Mary and handed them out, then two more for herself and Jack. Since he held the youngest daughter, he could not take it for himself. Sarah, therefore, fed him. She lifted spoonfuls to his open mouth in between bites of her own. He accepted the spoonfuls, gazing at her with such a soft loving look in his deep caramel eyes that she began to tremble as the bowl emptied.

His look spoke so intimately of trust and openness and sharing that it made her weak-kneed. Sarah was well known in this community. She visited and was visited by several married couples as well as a few single girls. Also, she had attended many births. Only a few times had she seen pairs wedded more than five years look at each other anything remotely like she and her husband still did. Why should such passion exist between them? Come to think of it, why should she question it instead in simply reveling in it?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Between Navidad and New Year's Day, the town gave itself over to music and celebration. Frequently, the family wandered out into the square and simply enjoyed themselves. Some of Sarah's friends dropped by or managed to waylay their path when they ventured out. They wanted to satisfy their curiosity about Sarah's oft absent husband.

Jack was extremely charming to them all. When he was home with her, he tended to downplay his normal ferocious and bizarre appearance. He didn't line his eyes with kohl, and he used his bandanna to tie back his thick hair. His leather captain's hat remained stubbornly on his head, despite all Sarah's efforts to give him one of the more extravagant styles worn by Spanish men. But for all that, he fit in remarkably well. And told outlandish tales of his adventures, which Sarah translated for all.

In point of fact, they became rather known for their flair for such story telling. Jack's graceful and fluid gesturing, Sarah's dramatic pauses during tense moments, the melodic rise and fall of their voices. In point of fact, they became rather well respected. Jack was uncertain whether or not his piracy was known and tolerated, or if he and Sarah really were managing to pull the wool over the entire town's eyes, but it mattered not. They and the crew were made welcome here.

One night, for the moment not being pestered for a performance, Jack and Sarah stood quietly listening to some particularly good musicians. Stirring, Jack leaned towards the fiddler and made a request. They launched into a slow waltz and Jack turned to her with a wicked grin. With a courtly bow that belied that grin, he held out a hand to her. Carefully he pronounced the Spanish words. "Mi señora, vamos a bailar?" (My lady, shall we dance?)

One eyebrow threatened to rise above her hairline. Playing along, she curtsied and placed her hand in his. "Mi placer, y el señor capitán." (My pleasure, lord and captain.)To her utter surprise, Jack placed his arm correctly around her waist and swept her in a masterful circle. "Jack, you can dance?" she exclaimed in English.

"Course I can, darling. After all, you might have noticed I'm an educated man. How do you think I came by it?"

She smiled delightedly as they waltzed slowly together. The children's eyes glowed with pride at the lovely couple Mama and Papa made. Jack went on. "I've had the same proper education most English lads have. And that includes the niceties. You could even take me to tea in London, were it not for the unfortunate blemish marring me otherwise flawless skin, that is." He referred to his pirate brand.

"Why haven't I known this before?"

He swept her in another of those circles, making her heart leap. "Love is full of surprises, my darling."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sarah had been asked to dance one of the holidays celebratory Goigs, Carol of the Birds. These were hymns set to dance, and it was a distinctly high honor for her. She grew increasingly nervous as the time of her performance drew closer. Jack tried to calm her in the way he knew best; drinking copious amounts of rum and making wild, passionate love to her. It seemed to help.

The day of her dance arrived and she prepared herself early in the morning. It would be held just outside the cathedral. Sarah waited with poise as the crowds gathered. Jack assumed an indolent pose, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes sparkled as she began. He loved to watch her dance, and it was a rare treat for him, as she did not give public performances much anymore, being generally too busy. The singer began, and so did the dancer.

'Upon this holy night, When God's great star appears, And floods the earth with brightness. Birds' voices rise in song, And warbling all night long. Express their glad heart's lightness. Birds' voices rise in song. And warbling all night long. Express their glad heart's lightness. The Nightingale is first. To bring his song of cheer, And tell us of His glad - ness: Jesus, our Lord, is born. To free us from all sin. And banish ev'ry sadness! Jesus, our Lord is born. To free us from all sin. And banish ev'ry sadness!'

The song came to the bit about the Sparrow, and Sarah managed to fix her eyes on Jack's for a moment before going on with her movements. He smirked in response.

'The answ'ring Sparrow cries: "God comes to earth this day. Amid the angels flying." Trilling in sweetest tones, The Finch his Lord now owns: "To Him be all thanksgiving." Trilling in sweetest tones, The Finch his Lord now owns: "To Him be all thanksgiving." The Partridge adds his note: "To Bethlehem I'll fly, Where in the stall He's lying. There, near the manger blest, I'll build myself a nest, And sing my love undying. There, near the manger blest, I'll build myself a nest, And sing my love undying.'

She finished the dance and lowered into a deep curtsy. Wild applause broke out. Jack pursed his lips, turned to Joshua and Esther standing beside him, and had a few brief words with them. The crowds gathered around Sarah to congratulate her. As soon as he decently could, Jack took her arm and firmly escorted her away, towards their home. He brought her into the house, straight to the bedroom. Sarah was smiling in delight by now.

He flung himself on the sofa and looked at her. "Dance for me Sarah."

She took a deep breath. Trust Jack to be aroused by her motions in acting out a holy and sacred event! She knew what he wanted, had done it for him before. She swayed her hips while lifting her skirts high to show off her legs to him. Jack leaned his head on the back of the sofa and unlaced his trousers.

Sarah could not unlace her bodice by herself. Swaying a bit more, she then twirled and knelt with her back to him. His fingers tugged quickly at her ties, freeing her. Rising slowly, the fabric fell from her body as she turned herself to show him. He freed his penis from his open pants and stroked himself almost absently while his dark eyes devoured her. In only a chemise she had more freedom of movement.

He continued to run his hand up and down his steadily stiffening prick. Sarah continued to undress while slowly whirling and swaying. Shortly he became impatient and undressed hastily, tossing his clothes willy nilly. Silently he crooked a finger to her in invitation. Now wearing only her last scrap of undergarments, she straddled his lap. He dove for her breasts.

Placing his hands on the outer sides of them, he pressed his face between them. His thumbs swept over her nipples while he moved his face back and forth and his tongue flicked out to taste the little hollow of her chest. He kissed over the tops of the swells, then pressed her breasts even closer together and took the taut tips both into his mouth. Sarah placed trembling hands into the rich spill of luxuriant dark hair. His tongue moved back and forth, gently licking her, arousing her to incredible heights.

Jack let go of her with one hand and reached between them, between her legs. The silk of her pantalettes was damp with her, and he groaned at the warmth. He kneaded the material against her core with gentle fingers. Sarah's hands left his hair and she held her own breasts for him to continue suckling. When she began rocking her hips to the motion of his fingers, he could not wait anymore. "Take them off, unless you want them ruined."

Sarah stood, slid her smallclothes off, and climbed right back into his lap. They were completely alone, the children still in the town square with her friends, and it was the middle of the afternoon. The sheer decadence of being able to partake of such delights like this was adding to the mood. Jack splayed a hand over her back and reached between them again, guiding himself into her. Sarah arched up, holding back, making his entry a long slow affair.

When she had slid perhaps only halfway down his cock, Sarah suddenly made a whining cry in the back of her throat and spasmed all over and around him. Jack clenched his teeth, groaning, struggling for control when he realized she was already coming. She thumped repeatedly against his pubic bone, mewling helplessly. He reached behind his head and grasped the material of the couch, tightly.

It was incredibly tempting to simply thrust hard in her right now and finish, spill inside her in return. But he wanted it to last, wanted more of her pleasure, wanted to hear those sounds from her lips over and over. Sarah was more than capable of coming more than once. As soon as she opened her eyes, he whispered huskily. "Use me Sarah. Take me for your own pleasure."

Given permission, Sarah took hold of his shoulders and began riding in smooth up and down motions. He kept hold of the sofa, arms up over his head, leaning back into the cushions. With the edge taken off her hunger for him, Sarah moved slowly and savored the feel and sight of him. His half lidded eyes and parted lips, his black hair tumbling free and wild, his smooth chest heaving all contributed to the sensual feast of making love to Jack Sparrow.

She leaned so her breasts pressed into his chest on each downward surge. He liked the feel of them bobbing against him. Up and down she stroked, rising up then bringing her hips down hard and heavily on him. Jack was reacting more strongly now. Hungry little noises and his eyes opening wider told her he was getting urgent. Sarah moved faster for him, a strong steady rhythm. His hands went to her hips, helping her slam down on him.

His lips were stretched in a grimace, brow furrowed, breath coming hard and fast. He looked as though he were caught in a scream. Jack was arching beneath her now. She did her best to slam his hips back against the couch, but he kept lifting them for her again and again. Sarah changed her strokes from long to short and quick. Now the head of his cock struck an extremely satisfying place and she keened in a low voice. Jack's head went back, his neck making a lovely bow shape. He howled with pleasure, warmth flooding inside her in wet spurts. Sarah tightened around him one final time in response to his gorgeous show of pleasure.

He groaned deep in his chest as he finished. Wrapping his arms tightly around her waist, Jack pulled her snug against his body. "I love you, I love you, I love you!" he murmured urgently, pressing his lips to her neck. Sarah closed her eyes and melted. It was rare for him to utter such heartfelt words. Jack showed her his feelings for her, in many small ways. Yet like any woman, she sometimes craved such flowery speech. When he did give it, she treasured it all the more greatly.


	8. Los Reyes Magos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The children enjoy the Parade of the Three Kings, celebrated at the end of Christmas feasting, in Spanish traditions. Gifts are given. Mr. Cotton joins in lessons with the children, leading to some interesting divulgences.

The morning of 6th January dawned in grey mists. As predicted on such a day, the children were up far earlier than the parents were ready for. "Mama! Mama! Wake up!"

Jack flinched and squeezed his eyes shut farther. Sarah rolled over and sat up blearily. "Son, the parade doesn't start for another hour. Can't you occupy yourself for that length of time?"

A pause. Soft shuffling of feet. Mary's voice, sounding thoughtful. "We can play marbles in the cellar. Or what about the darts?"

"No darts!" Jack called after his offspring as they darted from the room. Sarah muffled snorts of laughter against his chest.

They held each other and dozed lightly, aware of the sounds of small ones playing in another room. Amazingly, they heard no shrieks of outrage or pain, no clattering of crockery, no sound of smashing objects. After awhile, the slightly more rested mother and father were ready to face the day.

"Teague, help Jacqueline put her shoes on. Mary, here's a warm cloak, sweetie. All right, you're ready now. Have fun!" Sarah stood in the doorway watching them dash off. This was a day for children. The Desfile de los Tres Reyes Magos, or the Parade of the Three Kings, was always very popular, and often quite extravagant, depending on the donations of townsfolk to the Governor that arranged it every year. It would give her plenty of time to arrange their gifts in the shoes each child had left lined up before the fire.

Jack helped her stuff the toes of the shoes with bags of candied and chocolate nuts, then oranges in the rest. Atop the shoes Sarah carefully arranged the gifts. A new dress, carefully folded, and a china doll, for each girl. For Teague, a new set of breeches and shirt, along with a new adze for his carvings. 

"I have something for you as well Jack." Sarah turned to him with a smile. Rummaging in a drawer of the cabinet in the dining room, she withdrew a slim, leather bound book. Holding it out to him, she explained. "It's a collection of poetry by John Wilmot, second Earl of Rochester."

He took it hesitantly. "I don't go in much for earls and lords, love. As you well know."

She merely smiled. "Perhaps this one you will find to your liking. He was banished several times from court, among other things. Perhaps a pirate at heart?"

Rather intrigued now, Jack opened the book and took a sampling. An eyebrow lifted, lips pursed, and he raised his eyes to her. Ah, his interest was piqued. Delighted, she informed him. "I particularly liked 'Return.' Reminds me of us, a bit. On page twelve."

He leafed to that page. Read the poem, and smiled softly. He turned another page and read some more. She chuckled to herself and left the room, leaving Jack engrossed. She went to the kitchen to begin preparing the feast. Esther and Joshua would arrive shortly. She worked on stuffing the turkey full of plums until their arrival.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Good, now try spelling the word 'brought.' It's tricky, you have to think about it." She instructed. Mary and Cotton both sat before her at the wooden table. Both bent studious heads to the task of scratching out letters on the parchment before them.

Mr. Cotton's lessons were going well. He already knew most of his his letters when Sarah had begun instructing him. Now he was writing simple sentences. "All right, I think we're finished for today. Mary, please go fetch....that thing I purchased this morning." She grinned widely and winked at her daughter, who grinned back and scampered away.

Cotton wrote industriously, passed the results across the table. 'Family gone'

She reached over to pat his shoulder. "I know Joseph, but you have another. Jack and I, our children, are your family. You know that."

He looked at her with a tender expression and wrote again. 'Good girl"

"I'm pleased you think so!" Mary returned at that moment, carrying something large covered with a blanket. Sarah helped her set it on the table and then pulled the covering material away. It was a cage, with a parrot in it.

The old pirate looked nervously but with great excitement at the bird. Slowly he reached for the latch and coaxed the parrot to his arm. Standing on his forearm, the bird ruffled its vibrant feathers and croaked, "La vida a su cultivo!" (Life to your crop)

Cotton looked flabbergasted. Sarah sighed. The bloody bird spoke Spanish! But despite that setback, Cotton seemed grateful for her efforts. He snagged the parchment and wrote again, pushed it to her with his eyes oddly bright. 'Jools gone too'

She caught her breath. "Do you mean the diamonds?" She made her voice sound polite and not too excited.

He nodded, wrote once more. "Throw them. I was too sad'

"You threw them into the water, because of your grief over what had happened to you. That's understandable." She leaned towards him. Now she couldn't quite keep the tremor of excitement out of her voice. "Mr. Cotton, do you remember...where?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Late that night, after the house was dark and quiet and all others were asleep, Jack and Sarah kept each other awake with both gentle and fervent sessions of lovemaking. During a quiet period of sore and sweaty treasuring of each other, she told him. "I'll sail with you Jack. Come spring, but not so far as the Orient. I would be away far too long. I cannot leave my babies for such a time, no matter who is providing for them."

He traced a ghostly dragon over her thigh, finishing with a wicked forked tongue curling towards the source of her nectar. He often liked to draw imaginary tattoos on the skin that he refused to allow to actually be inked. His chin rested on her hip as she lay on her side. "Fair enough. I know of some beautiful islands nearer to hand. Or, sail rather. Not too far from Madagascar, where we can offload our plunder."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Return" by John Wilmot, 2nd Earl of Rochester
> 
> ABSENT from thee, I languish still;  
>  Then ask me not, When I return?  
> The straying fool 'twill plainly kill  
>  To wish all day, all night to mourn.
> 
> Dear, from thine arms then let me fly,  
>  That my fantastic mind may prove  
> The torments it deserves to try,  
>  That tears my fix'd heart from my love.
> 
> When, wearied with a world of woe,  
>  To thy safe bosom I retire,  
> Where love, and peace, and truth does flow,  
>  May I contented there expire!
> 
> Lest, once more wandering from that heaven,  
>  I fall on some base heart unblest;  
> Faithless to thee, false, unforgiven--  
>  And lose my everlasting rest.


	9. Another happy new year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We check in with the Turner family, and how they are faring over the holidays.

The holiday warmth pervaded the entire family. The boys were particularly boisterous, driving Elizabeth to distraction. She would frequently shoo them out of the house to shovel pathways around the house through the snow, or pile up snowballs and pelt them at each other. Willy loved such games, but Jack, being much younger and smaller, invariably came out the worse for wear and came crying into the house. Elizabeth would then cuddle him until he calmed, and set him to warm in front of the fire, often with lollies or other sweets.

She had been raised as a lady and taught things that were more ornamental than useful, and though her life since being the Pirate King had led her to learn many new skills, Elizabeth was still not comfortable in the kitchen. She could cook passingly well but did not truly enjoy it. What had been a wonderful surprise when Will and his father joined them was Bill's knowledge of cooking. Not only was he a wonderful cook, having frequently filled that function aboard the various ships he'd served on, but he had a strong affinity for it.

"Good to know I'm good for something, aside of pillaging, plundering, and fathering a fine son," he'd drawled in that soft spoken voice when he first came home with them. As he said the words, his eyes had rested on Will with a look of love and pride. No longer did he have the shadow of sadness that had always before accompanied the sight of William Turner.

The father and son often sat together, sometimes went for walks about the little seashore town, talking for hours. During their time on the Flying Dutchman, they had dealt with questions like 'why did you leave me,' and 'what happened between you and my mother' and 'did you hate me for a long time before you decided I was worth saving.' Men handle such topics with ill grace and much averting of eyes, and clearing of throats, and long pauses to deal with the thickness of their throats. Yet eventually, a peace and camaraderie and strong attachment had developed between them, and was obvious now.

That first Christmas, Will and Elizabeth had been too overcome by the fact that they were together at all to be able to concentrate on any festivities. Bill had known it, and made it his personal gift to them to handle off the cooking and decorating of the house for them. This year, he encouraged his daughter in law into the kitchen to bake sweeties with him. They began the sweet process of discovering each other. Bill treated her with reverent gentleness and fond teasing. His eyes glowed with satisfaction when he looked upon her or his grandchildren.

In fact, for a pirate, the man was quite zealous of all the little family traditions normally practiced this time of year. Very likely because he had missed so many out of his son's childhood. Caroling, decorating the Christmas tree, encouraging the boys to be good so "Papa Noel" would fill their shoes with goodies, were all things that Bill ate up and seemed to adore.

"All right Elizabeth, now we have to do the angel's halos. Careful now...twist your wrist just so...there!" Bill looked up at Elizabeth, who was holding a pastry bag and had the tip of her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth. Flour daubed her cheek. She looked rather adorable and he couldn't help chuckling at the sight.

William had taken the boys caroling, leaving his father and Elizabeth to bake the creche, the traditional nativity scene. This year, they had decided to make them out of meringue, sprinkled with powdered sugar, and nestled in a wreath of holly leaves, set up on the table in the front hall. They were putting the finishing touches on now. She had found it rather difficult, but thrilling at the same time. To hold her hand perfectly steady to get just the right shape, setting the figures on a tray and sliding them into the oven to dry just so, the detail involved. Her fingers and wrists ached, but a deep sense of satisfaction and beauty for the tiny things filled her. Impulsively, she hugged Bill.

He stiffened, then relaxed and hugged back, patting one shoulder in an awkward endearing manner. "I'm glad he's got you, girl. He certainly got lucky in the love department," he said gruffly.

She drew back in surprise, glancing at the old man's face. His eyes were averted, but his lips were smiling. Occupying himself with arranging the holly branch just so, he went on. "He talked about you, you know, while he was Captain. Ne'er a fairer and more noble man, my boy. His mother did just right by him. He's got a shining bit of steel in him."

"Yes he does. He's an amazing man. I think sometimes, how I might have missed out on my life with him, for lack of courage to speak to him more plainly. Thank goodness he finally was brave enough...to tell me..he loved me." Elizabeth's voice started out strong but got faint and awed by the end. "No matter how difficult it was sometimes, I would not trade my life and my love for anything else, ever."

Bootstrap smiled again, memories glimmering in his eyes. "It's that kind of strength and tenaciousness he admired and loved so much in you. It's what he talked about when it got bad for him, missing you. He knew that you would love him until the bitter end, that you would never give up on him coming home one day. He KNEW it."

They finished placing the delicate nativity in the proper places; Joseph and Mary reverently bent over the tiny miraculous baby, shepherds and Magi gathered beyond to pay awed tribute. She squeezed her father in law's arm. "I'm so glad he saved you," she said softly. "I didn't think he'd be able to, for a bit."

Her answer was a shy half smile. A few minutes later, William burst into the house with a son on each arm, all three singing at the top of their lungs. Cheeks were rosy, and smiles were huge. They finished with a grand finale, at the feet of their delighted audience. Applauding happily, she hugged her children and shooed them off to bed. Bill stepped in front of her, with a twinkle in his eyes. "Let me put them to bed. Go be with him. You know you want to, Elizabeth."

He led the boys off before she could argue, and Will came up behind her and slid his arms around her. Taking full advantage of the situation, she turned, locked her arms behind his head, and pulled him down for a kiss. His cold face quickly warmed as she drew him in more passionately. Slowly he walked her backwards down the hallway to their bedroom, hands caressing her waist and tongue dominating hers.

He kicked the door shut behind them, and freed her bodice from it's laces. Pressing her down on the bed, he tugged at her gown until it was off and floating across the room. Elizabeth lay with chest heaving in her chemise while he stripped his breeches and shirt off. Coming back down to her, he kissed her again with breathtaking passion. "Elizabeth, my Elizabeth," he whispered, stroking her breasts tenderly. She felt him hot and hard against her thigh.

He was urgent tonight, which excited her dreadfully. Often, he was slow and insistently gentle until she drummed against him demanding more, harder. And laughingly, he would give in to her, making her realize that was his intention all along. Now, he skipped several teasing steps to more direct action. He was almost rough as he undressed both of them, stealing hard kisses between until she could barely catch her breath. Once they were naked, he rolled them until she was on top. "Come on Elizabeth. Give me your strength, give me your beauty."

She impaled herself on him, moaning softly, and rode up and down, looking at his face slack with bliss. She came twice, and he urged her in a rough voice to keep going, to bounce harder, until her thighs were burning and her body beaded with sweat and he yielded to her with a loud cry. Resting together in sleepy afterglow, he caught his breath and whispered, "Merry Christmas, Elizabeth my love."


	10. Abducted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is a pirate at heart, after all. Sarah should know that by now!

Everything had been decided, and Jack began charting their course. The Seychelle Islands off the coast of Madagascar were enchanting and beautiful and uncivilized. A perfect place to take his wife for romance and debauchery. He imagined the various activities they could partake in on the sun drenched beaches, just like the little spit where he'd found her after Barbossa marooned her before they wed. 

The most difficult part of the journey would be rounding the treacherous Cape of Good Hope. No sailor or captain, no matter how seasoned, undertook that lightly.

Sarah became rather maudlin over the children after Johsua and Esther Whiting arrived with little Becky, the apple of their eyes. She really was a handsome child, with pretty blue eyes like forget me nots. Sarah mooned about, until Jack formulated a plan that not only stirred his lusty appetite, but was sure to bring out the wicked ruthlessness he knew was hidden under Sarah's current very motherly demeanor.

He tried to understand, a mother's instincts and all that. Joshua tactfully reminded him that Jack was accustomed to taking his leave of them, but Sarah was not at all. Esther helped him put the finishing and necessary feminine touches on his plan. That night, he watched unobserved as his wife tucked in his wee babies for the last time. Teague and Mary were aquiver with excitement at the thoughts of the good times they would have with Auntie and Uncle. Jackie was nearly oblivious, aware only that Mama was going with Papa this time, and "would be back."

Sarah sighed heavily as she pushed a stray lock of black hair from the chubby toddler's face and moved from her bedside. No doubt she believed she would have another emotional, teary eyed goodbye with them over breakfast next morning. Jack accosted her in the hallway outside their own room, pushing her against the wall and bending down to kiss her senseless.

After the lovemaking that inevitably followed, she had a rather interesting suggestion. To withhold themselves from sex during the first part of the voyage, in order to best recreate their maiden sail together and build tension between them. Jack was sated, sleepy, and therefore agreeable, and they set a time span of two weeks, which was approximately the time that had passed for them between meeting and falling into bed and love together. Nonetheless, two weeks was the agreement, and Jack believed it simple enough to stick to.

Next morning, just before the sun rose, he forced himself from sleepy contentment and woke. Quickly and silently he dressed and gathered Sarah's clothes for the journey. He sneaked out of the room to give the bundle to Esther who in turn gave it to Gibbs who took it to the fully loaded Pearl. Now came the really difficult part of his task.

With silk scarves he bound Sarah's feet and hands securely, and ocvered her with not only her housecoat but a thick blanket as well, shielding her face from the light of the sun just beginning now to rise. He gathered her comfortably in his arms, murmuring sleepy sounding nonsense to her so she would be soothed and relax in his embrace. He moved carefully, slowly, shifting her weight in increments until he was seated at the side of the bed with her curled against his chest.

The crucial moment had arrived and Jack found himself nervous. She was going to be sooo angry...He stood up swiftly and fluidly, walking swiftly out the bedroom door and towards the door of their home. Sarah remained asleep, did not stir until he was clear of the house and striding towards the harbor. The cooler air was the culprit. He felt her body changing from it's cuddled position against his chest.

He felt her quiver in surprised query to find herself being carried, and gathered his strength for what was sure to be a battle. Any moment...ahh, there. He felt her stiffen as she discovered herself bound. But she surprised him.

"Jack, what's going on?" His face quirked in a smile. Trust Sarah to be curious and logical and assess the matter before acting. She wiggled to free her face from the confining blanket, succeeded after a few moments. Jack was moving as swiftly as possible now, just short of running.

She saw the ship in the distance, turned her head and saw her home receding in the early morning half light. Her home containing her sleeping children. Now her rage exploded. The screech of an indignant banshee nearly deafened him. "Jack! You insufferable cad!"

He'd expected her to struggle deliciously against his chest. Dressed as she was in only her nightgown and housecoat, Jack had anticipated a quite enjoyable friction from her body. Fantasies of himself carrying off a wiggling armful of sexy pirate lass dissipated. Raising her bound hands, Sarah clenched her fingers into a double fist and thumped him square on the forehead. He went down like a load of bricks.

He was only woozy. Sarah had struck him to free herself, not do any serious damage. When he cleared his vision a few moments later, he beheld her sitting next to him, chewing at the knots with her teeth. He moved to pick her up, and she shrieked at him, "Noo Jack!"

Wisely, he slung her over his shoulder so she could not strike him again, tossing the blanket over her to prevent his crew from getting an eyeful of her scantily clad posterior. Her undignified position did not stop her from struggling. She arched, drummed her fists on his backside, tried to kick him so that he so that he had to clutch tight at her legs. She also blistered his ears with horrid sounding Spanish deprecations.

Her gyrations caused him to wobble a bit as he started up the gangplank. Deliberately, he shifted her rather farther down his shoulder than was stictly necessary, and exaggerated the stagger so that her head swung out over the water. She clutched at him frantically. "Careful darling," he drawled. "Wouldn't want you to end up in the drink due to me careless butter fingers." Said fingers walked suggestively up the back of one of her thighs, causing an audible indrawn breath from her.

He carried her to the great cabin, dumping her unceremoniously inside, fingers tugging expertly at the silk round her wrists so that the tie slithered loose easily. Furious eyes and a flushed face met his gaze from behind wildly tangled hair. "Make yourself comfortable my love." he said sarcastically. Waving a jewelled hand, he added, "You know where everything is." She flew at him in a rage, he skipped backwards, slammed the door and barred it.

It was later that he discovered that she had stolen his keys, which included the key to the rum stores. Seething anger filled him for a moment, but gave way to great amusement. Sarah was a true pirate bride, remembering to filch his pockets while being abducted! She had no more access to the rum than anyone else, but was no doubt availing herself of the bottles already in the cabin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He swung open the door in the moonlight, finally ready to brave the angry lioness caged within. Squinting momentarily, he located her sprawled across the bed, with only a few candles lighting the interior. Sarah had not availed herself of the clothes he'd made sure were brought aboard for her, and the skirt of her nightgown was raised nearly to the tops of her thighs. A rum bottle was clutched in one hand. She glanced at him, almost as if disinterested, raised the bottle to her mouth and sucked the opening lewdly.

Heat flared in him and he started towards her with the single intent of removing the nightgown as quickly as possible. "Stop!" she snapped at him. Sarah was most thoroughly sussed. "We agreed, no sex for two weeks."

"Oh come now, Sarah," he wheedled, easing his way further inside the room. His eyes flashed with lustful intent. "And come later, and come again, and-"

A solid object thunked against the wood of the door just behind his head after first breezing through his hair. She was sitting up now, anger flashing out at him from those amazing eyes and her arm cocked from the throw. Ah. She hadn't forgiven him for carrying her off then. He changed tactics. "Might I persuade you to share the remaining rum, bit o'Sarah?"

"Get yer own," she slurred in response.

He cast his eyes around the room. There on his table he spotted two full onion bottles. Stepping forward and snaking out a hand to snag one, he swung his eyes back to the bed, there to stop, frozen at the lustful vision that greeted him. The hand that had thrown the book at him was now under her skirt, moving back and forth slowly. Her eyes were still fixed on him with equal parts desire, fury and drunkenness. She drank again, and raised her skirt over her hips with a sinful smile.

"Luv, what you're touching is mine. I've no objections to sharing, however," he pointed out in the most reasonable tones he could muster, which wasn't very.

"Can't have sex with me Jack. We agreed. But that doesn't mean I can't satisfy myself." She pouted sensuously at him, shifting her legs so he had a nice clear view of exactly what her fingers were doing.

Sweat broke out all over his body and his skin tingled. His breeches felt extremely constraining, so he did the sensible thing. He opened them and exposed himself to the dark warm air of his quarters. What he didn't expect was Sarah dropping her eyes to have a look at him, and moan and frig her fingers faster. "Oh God!" He wrapped a hand around himself and tugged.

Now her fingers went delving into that wet lucious crack he was fond of pumping himself. Once again he tried to go to her to relieve his sexual need, agreement be damned. Once again Sarah warned him away, pulling her hand out from between her legs and snarling at him furiously. He supported himself with one hand on the table and rubbed his fist furiously over his hard prick.

His wanton woman seemed to like that very much, for her eyes once again slid downwards to watch him, while her own hand stole back to her sticky center. She moaned quietly, nowhere near the loud shrieks she made when HE was the one touching her, he noted with some pride. He swept his thumb over the head of his cock on every upstroke. His legs became very weak, and he cursed and moaned as he touched himself. His eyes remained steadily fixed on the hypnotic sight of her fingers pumping in and out of her body, thumb sweeping in circles over the bump at the top that made her jerk and quiver.

"I want you Sarah," he said plaintively in a rough voice. He licked his lips, dry from all the air he was sucking in and out of his lungs.

Her own breathing was sharp and loud. Damnit he could *hear* the wet sounds her cunny made as she fingered herself, and it drove him over the edge. Pleasure raced white hot along his nerve endings, and he groaned in relief as his seed spilled hot over his own fingers. Looking up, he watched as Sarah arched her back, sighing his name in gasps as she quivered in her own orgasm.

He'd wanted her, and she had denied him. The anger from before rose up again. This had not been a satisfying encounter. "Two weeks Sarah? Ah, but who will break first, I wonder?" He left the cabin, unable to face the thought of sleeping there just yet. He paced the deck a long while before returning to find her soundly sleeping. She reached for him when he slid into the bed, and they curled up together, bodies forgiving in the forgetfulness of night.


	11. Prizes won

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piratey adventures once again! Jack can't stop being a good man, and together he and Sarah find a priceless treasure

Once the inebriation of that first night wore off, Sarah was her normal sweeter self. Though that first day, she mostly hung off the rail gazing towards home with a mournful expression. Jack confessed to her that he simply hadn't been able to resist stealing her away like that, and reminded her that he was a pirate. She smiled at that, and said she understood. After that, the battle of lusts was on.  
Jack would often hover behind Sarah, letting her feel the heat of his body without quite touching her. He would say things, things that sounded innocent but the look in his eyes and the curve of his lips gave her the double entendre. Watching him eat became near torture, for whenever he caught her looking, he would lick his lips, lick his fingers, and give little satisfied groans of enjoyment.  
Not to be outdone, Sarah stole shamelessly from him. Touches and hugs mostly, she adored coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist. If he was at the wheel it was even better, for she would stroke his stomach in ever lowering caresses until her fingers were just above the bulge of his trousers. At that point she would press her breasts into his back. Kisses were another thing she stole, in the cabin, under the stairs, in the galley when the crew were distracted by food. The tension was thick with lust between Jack and Sarah. In bed at night, they would often forget themselves, and wake with their hands on each other's bodies; pulling and stroking and groaning until relief was achieved.  
It was not enough. By the end of a week, both of them wondered desperately why they were denying themselves. Yet the game went on, for the anticipation was delicious even while nearly unbearable. Sarah distracted herself by throwing herself into the duties of deckhand. Jack, of course, was busy being Captain. And one day, something else distracted them both.  
"Sail ahoy!" she called clearly from her perch on the lookout, pointing the direction.  
She climbed down while Jack called orders to give chase. She stood near him on the upper deck. Black Pearl slid through the water, humming with excitement as she drew near her prey. Sarah felt the ship's eagerness through the soles of her feet. Jack's hand trembled with excitement where it rested on his pistol butt. They came close enough for Jack to inspect through a spyglass.  
He stood quite still for a long time, Sarah just to his left and behind him. Though he must have gotten a good look, what he saw clearly did not please him. At last he lowered the spyglass and sighed, but still said nothing. After a few moments, Sarah gently brushed her fingertips on the back of his hand, silently questioning, What is it?  
He half turned his head, spoke two terse words. "Spanish slaver."  
Generally speaking, Jack tended to avoid raiding Spanish ships. It suited him to remain on decent terms with that government, particularly since his wife and children sheltered on Spanish shores. He'd already been branded a pirate by the English, through no real fault of his own, and did not wish another king's ransom on his head. However, he loathed and detested slavers, and often went out of his way to attack them. This ship he would be pursuing. By her current position, she was bound for Havana, fresh from the African coast.  
A few hours later, they were coming up close to her starboard side. Close enough to see the men aboard her preparing for battle. No easy pickings as it sometimes was for the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow. The black jack was raised, and cannons readied. The other ship fired first, making Jack growl angrily. The men all armed themselves and prepared for battle, including Sarah. He noted that, and pursed his lips thoughtfully, carefully exploring whether or not he wished her to risk her life this time. It was a question he asked himself rather more often than she suspected.  
It took him only two seconds to decide that yes, she was allowed this time. He wanted her skill with a sword and a pistol at his back. The Pearl came up alongside, and shots began to be fired between the two crews. Cannon fire boomed, wood splintered. "Grappling hooks, and prepare to board!" Jack called out.  
He strode through smoke, grinning madly, flashing his sword before him. Somewhere off to his right Sarah stalked, quieter and less flashy but no less deadly than himself. He noticed without distracting himself at all, that despite her boyish apparel she could never pass for a lad. Not with those breasts that she never bothered to bind, not with that luxurious hair streaming away behind her scarf. Jack grabbed a rope and swung himself over the rail of the enemy slaver ship.  
The man before him on the deck was barechested, bald, and sporting gaudy hoop earrings. Jack was tempted to rip them out of his head. The sailor wielded a curved scimitar, no doubt stolen from a slave, and slashed at Jack's legs. Jack blocked his stroke, jumped down from the rail, and engaged him. The other man was heavier and managed to force him back against the rail. Next moment he was stumbling backwards with the hilt of a dagger protruding from his throat and a look of shocked outrage on his face. The Captain knew exactly who had thrown the blade with such precision, and moved further onto the deck without another glance at the dead man.  
He was a bit tired when it was all over. He wondered what the captain of the slaver was thinking to not surrender. She was so obviously outgunned, yet the crew had fought with amazing vigor. They must have hoped to take down a few of the pirates with them, for there was no possible way she could have won. The ship was not large enough to be holding cargo that would be worth all their lives. Alas, he could not ask the captain why he'd done it, for he was dead, with Sarah's dagger in his neck.  
The slaver's mast was taken down, and about half the crew were dead. The rest were bound hand and foot in a huddled circle. Blood made the footing slippery and the stink of spent gunpowder filled the air. The ship had oars, no need to set the survivors adrift in boats. They would limp, crippled and bereft, into the nearest port. Suddenly he realized that she was nowhere in sight.  
"Where's Sarah!" he barked out.  
Pintel answered him. "Mrs. Captain is below, sir. Freeing the cargo, as it were."  
Jack swung on his heel and went below swiftly. Sarah and Ragetti were indeed unchaining the mass of huddled dark flesh that were suffering in the unspeakable conditions of a slaver's cargo hold. As he suspected, there were not a lot, forty all told. Still, several of them were ill to the point of insensibility. Thankfully there were no children among them. Jack well recalled the first cargo of slaves he'd ever freed. Several children had been in that bunch. Two of them had died, and he'd personally wrapped their bodies, weighted the tiny feet, and tipped the boards that sent them under himself.  
"You are all free men, and women, as of this moment." He addressed the dazed slaves. "And you have a choice. You can choose to join my crew and serve aboard a pirate ship, and sign the articles acknowledging me as Captain. Or, I shall take you to Africa and put you back on your own lands. Whichever you choose, you must board my ship at this time. I will await your answer, within a day's time."  
While he talked to them, Sarah was searching further back in the hold. There was a wild clucking of chickens as she set the cage aside, bleating of the lone remaining goat as she kicked it out of her way. She bent over a small cage and wrenched open it's door even as her husband moved closer to her. "What have you got, Sarah love?"  
"The reason they fought so hard," she answered, intently reaching into the cage to draw forth a bundle of fur.  
Jack stared in disbelief at the cub, obviously a cheetah but with black stripes running along it's back and very dark spots peppering it's sides. In all his travels he'd never seen a cat like that. "Animal like that would certainly fetch a high price. A very high price."  
"We must set him free Jack," Sarah told him firmly. She held the cub protectively close to her chest. It was mewing pathetically. "Once he's cured of seasickness, and has something to eat. Poor baby's half starved!"  
"He?" Jack raised an amused eyebrow at her mothering of the baby hunting cat, the fastest on earth.  
"Indeed Jack. He!" With an unrepentant grin, she held up the cub so he could clearly see between it's legs and under it's tail. "And 'he' will be coming with us, to be freed with the others in Africa."  
She went back up onto the deck, and moved immediately to the big bald brute she'd killed earlier. Sarah quickly stripped him of the pouch around his waist, pulled his rings off his fingers, and removed his gold hoop earrings. Jack watched her efficiency with a bemused expression. She had several piercings in her ears, she probably would wear those earrings. However, the only rings Sarah donned was the one he gave her at their wedding, a ring of emerald set in gold, and an onyx in white gold made to resemble dragon's claws holding the black jewel.  
When her eyes and hands strayed possessively towards the wickedly curved sword, Jack spoke up. "Fancy the scimitar love? You sighted the ship, you get first pick of weapons, after meself and Gibbs. Pirate's Code says so. Ye want it, it's yours."  
"Thank you Captain," she gave him a brilliant smile. The scabbard was splashed with blood, and Sarah removed it carefully, wrinkling her nose in distaste. She'd not made such a moue of disgust even while unfastening the chains of those wretched souls below, though the stench had been awful. But this slaver sickened her far more.  
When she stepped back onto the Pearl with her feline prize, Cotton's new parrot, which had taken to perching on his head despite his best efforts to get it to stay on his shoulder, flapped it's wings mightily. The cub in Sarah's arms cringed. "Mala nina!" (Bad girl!) The bird shrieked.  
Jack blinked, his lips twitched. Casting a sidelong glance at Sarah, he drawled, "I do believe that bird might be getting the hang of it after all, Mr. Cotton."  
He tended to the needs of the ex-slaves while Sarah went to the galley to find scraps of meat and goat's milk for the cub. Later, he went to his cabin to fetch some charts, and found her sprawled on the bed watching the cub wash himself. The little cat scrubbed contentedly at a paw, stomach rounded out and soft purrs issuing from his throat. Sarah had washed the stink of battle from her face and arms and changed into a more feminine blouse. She looked utterly ravishing in her indolent pose, a look of soft enjoyment on her face as she watched the cub.  
Jack wanted her instantly, and dammed the fact that he must wait another week before having her. He banged the door shut, causing the sleepy cat to jump in startlement. Sarah flicked lazy eyes towards him. "Careful Jack, or I'll set my pussy to you," she murmured huskily. "And this one has claws." She giggled.


	12. Lessons and Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short but sweet chapter to see what Calypso and her young daughter are up to! Also a small hint as to future characters.

Mother and daughter ruled the island in whatever fashion pleased them best. Currently, Calypso and Joie were in human form. The goddess resembled the form she'd been bound in for years, it being one she was comfortable with. Joie, well, Joie resembled her father, not being able to help that at all. She was learning how to be stealthy; how to turn so dim as to be near invisible, how to teleport from one place to another, how to use the surrounding waters to camouflage herself. The little minx had vanished utterly from her mother's sight. Calypso narrowed her eyes, recalling the bored look in her daughter's eyes when they'd begun this final exercise.

Casting her voice to broadcast all over the island as well as the immediate vicinity, Calypso called her child. "Why don'cha tell me when we get to da part of the lesson dat's new?"

It was a sheepish looking girl that floated up above the trees, from the lagoon. Though chronologically she was only four years old, her body was maturing at an accelerated rate, so in appearance and mental alertness she was more like an human eight year old. Levitating to her mother, she settled on the ground before her and looked abashed. Calypso crossed her arms. "Ya been knowing how to do dat already?"

Joie nodded slowly. "Been going off explorin' on your own, den? Been to see your fadder, I take it? William Turner?"

Joie nodded again, peeking up at her mother through her long blond eyelashes. "You angry with me, Mama?"

Calypso smiled, shaking her head no. "You're curious 'bout him, nothing strange about dat." She cocked her head questioningly. "What do he say 'bout it?"

Joie smiled her Turner smile, lighting up her whole face. "He says he loves me."

Her mother blinked a bit at that, a crafty smile on her face and the wheels of her mind turning. She felt kindly towards Captain Turner, he'd been an honorable and good Ferryman. Due to that, and the child they'd made together, there would always be a bond between them. But Calypso was also bound, by the agreements she'd made. "You're MY child Joie, don't be forgettin' dat! William might love you, but he gave you to me so I would let him have his own family."

Joie looked surprised. The two sat together, on the black sands of the beach, feet washed by the surf as they talked. "He said he gave me to you as a gift. Did he give those two boys to the other lady too?"

"He gave Elizabeff dose fine sons because she his true love. He would not have me, could not love me da same way."

The child nodded and looked thoughtful. "True love like Jack and Sarah have?"

Calypso was startled. "How you knowin' 'bout dose two, child?"

She shrugged, absentmindedly swirling her finger in the waters. Without realizing she was exercising her power, Joie accidentally re-animated two corpses of sailors lying several yards offshore. "I've seen them, when they sail together. Everything around them lights up."

"Witty Jack be sumpin special, all right. Born in a hurricane, touched by da finger of Poseidon himself." Calypso stared at the skeletons whose flesh was knitting around them. As soon as they had lungs to draw in air with, they began to scream in agony. It startled Joie considerably, who stopped what she was doing. The goddess waved a hand and abolished the spell, sending them back to their blessedly painless and silent watery grave. 

Her daughter looked guiltily at her. "Oops, I guess I need to grow up a little more before I do that."

She put an arm around her child and they sat merely enjoying each other's company. Calypso daydreamed of a great sailor who'd captured her heart, and was unprepared for the next question. Like all little ones, her curiosity was insatiable. "Am I the only gift you have, Mama?"

The immortal being twitched in surprise. It took her several moments to regain her composure enough to answer. "You da only one dat matter, Joie de Mer."

Joie caught the unspoken hint and pressed eagerly. "But there is another? Another like me?"

A tingle of very human insecurity rushed through Calypso. She didn't want to lose her precious daughter. Joie was her perfect companion. Uncertainly she answered, "Dey is, but he too much like his fadder. A quicksilver trickster."

"Where is he now?" Joie was now sculpting the sand into a miniature replica of the Black Pearl. A sand figure of Jack appeared on the top of the mainsail.

"I don't know." It was the truth, but not all of it. That tale she was not ready for.

Joie lost her interest in the conversation after that, and amused herself by tossing seashells at her sand sculpture. Calypso felt her fear recede. All was still well with her world.


	13. Round the Cape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adventures are often perilous. But great rewards come of them too! Summaries are really hard lol.

"Here. He was very clear about it. He threw them in, right here, on the ship that brought him to Tortuga. He marked the position on a chart, he fixed it firmly in his mind. And you know how good a helmsman Cotton is. He wouldn't have made a mistake about the position." Jack and Sarah bent their heads over the map she had spread out, while behind them Gibbs held the Pearl's wheel. Jack placed his finger on the place that was marked in charcoal.

"And we're bound for Madagascar, near that same spot," he murmured. "What interesting fortune that is. Though gods and fate only know how far the jewels might have moved from the current and sea life bothering them." He suddenly became aware of another person next to him and looked up.

One of the freed slaves was standing there, looking nervous. The Captain raised expectant eyebrows in invitation to speak. The man was the color of honey, and built slim but muscled like Jack himself. He spoke slowly. "In my own land, I am called Gunju. It means 'wild cat.' I would prowl the hills like a hunter." Jack curled his lip and arched an eyebrow high. Gunju looked off at the curving horizon, eyes distant. "I cannot go back. My shame would be too great. But I can serve the captain who set me free. I can swear allegiance to you."

Jack looked the man up and down. "Very well. Let's get you the articles to sign. Can you read?" He rolled up the maps as the man nodded his head yes.

That night, there was a battle between cat and captain. Jack pulled the covers of his bed back to crawl beside a deeply asleep Sarah, when an angry furball hissed warningly from at her back. Jack yelped in surprise and the cheetah baby swiped a paw at him, scratching his forearm with little claws. Sarah jerked awake to the sound of master and pet both snarling furiously.

"Get that animal out of me bed, Sarah!" Jack thundered indignantly. He sat on the edge of the bed inspecting the claw marks while she scooped the cat up and got to her feet. "First that cursed monkey, now dammable clawing cats," he muttered.

"He was at the foot of the bed, curled up at my feet when I fell asleep Jack. He must have moved closer while I was unaware." She said apologetically. Her hand caressed the little beast gently, soothingly. Watching, Jack once again felt that irrational jealousy, wishing that hand were stroking the same way on certain parts of his body.

Hurriedly she tucked him away in the hammock that slung in the far corner. He mewed, stuck his head out of the hammock at her, then purred again as she petted him. Jack cast smoldering warning glances in her direction, until she left off the animal and returned to pay him attention. Bathing his cuts, she soothed him with wifely nonsense until he was a bit more appeased. But he was still quite restless, and would be until they were able to satisfy themselves fully with each other's bodies. Both of them felt the need keenly. Only a few more days were left, coincidentally around the same time they would make landfall in Africa.

They were nearing the Cape. Besides Gunju, one other man had signed on to the Pearl's crew compliment. Isoba was a huge muscular man, very dark skinned. He towered over Jack, yet seemed to regard the Captain which great awe. He'd heard many of the legends of the infamous pirate, which pleased Jack immensely. Currently, he was talking to her about the cheetah, whom Sarah had taken to calling Gunther. Jack's booted step came closer, paused a few feet from where they sat watching the cub.

Sarah looked up at him. He was casually studying the sky, but she recognized his body language. Rigid control and watchfulness, masked by seeming insincerity. "Rounding the Cape soon. Isoba, I'll be needing you in the ratlines. Sarah, get in the great cabin. And stay there."

Isoba immediately obeyed the Captain. Sarah rose to her feet, looking at the beautiful clear blue sky where Jack was gazing. It was rare for Jack to command her so. Normally, he requested of her, treated her as his equal in every way. She didn't quite understand why he would send her to a safe place when there were no signs of storms or bad weather of any kind. However, he always seemed to...know things, sense when something was about to happen. If it was so important to him to secure herself in their quarters, so be it. She shrugged and obediently went to the captain's quarters.

The weather stayed fair, which Jack was extremely thankful for. It took a day and a half to round the Cape. He held the wheel the entire time. Sarah amused herself with his books in the cabin, comforting Gunther when the winds rocked the Pearl violently. Sometimes she heard Jack up on the quarterdeck above her, shouting orders. It comforted her to know how near he was, yelling in that strong gravelly voice.

Evening of the first day, it felt as though the Pearl were trying to stand on her head, and Sarah had serious fears that she would succeed. The Captain's voice came often during the hour or so that followed, before the ship's motions returned to merely tossing to and fro. Late next morning, Gibbs came for her, telling her the Captain wanted her on the upper deck. She made her way to his side, discovering that everything was sopping wet from the waves that had rolled over the deck during the light storm of last evening. He looked like a drowned rat, and exhausted. "Take a look at the view, bit o'Sarah." He jerked his chin in the direction of land.

The fierce wind blew her hair in streaming waves and snatched at her breath. Nonetheless, the view of the coast as they finished rounding the Cape, of waves crashing against a rocky coastline, was breathtaking in itself. Rich green growth like living, glowing emeralds covered the slopes of the forbidding rocks. Glancing back at her husband, she saw his eyes alight with appreciation for the glorious sight, a little smile playing over his lips. He looked so handsome and happy despite his exhaustion, that her heart melted with love for him.

They made port and Jack went below, collapsing across the bed to grab a few hours of well earned rest. He mumbled orders to Sarah to pass on to the men. Back topside, she spoke up from the quarterdeck, Gibbs beside her. "You are dismissed for shore leave. Marty, Pintel and Ragetti have first watch. Cotton, Snaky Jake, little Tom have the next watch. The rest of you, return in eight hours to draw your next watch rotation. Dismissed!"

This crew knew her, knew that she carried authority from Jack himself. But Gunju approached her while the men disembarked. "Tell me something. I hold no malice towards you, but are you not merely a deckhand aboard this ship? I notice you share the Captain's bed, but should it not be his Quartermaster who relays his orders?" He glanced at Gibbs who looked shocked that the man would question Sarah's authority in such a fashion.

She stared him down coolly, stroking Gunther's back where he lay against her chest. "My hierarchy aboard this vessel is not your affair. Nor is my standing with the Captain. You see that Gibbs does not countermand my orders, therefore my words must carry some weight. Believe me when I tell you that I have every right to give what orders I choose. You can confirm that with Captain Sparrow when he makes an appearance."

Gunju smiled with delight when the little slip of a woman answered him strongly. "Yes, milady. Forgive me, I meant no disrespect. I was merely curious."

She nodded, allowing a bit of a smile to show. "None taken, Mr. Gunju. Now off with you, if you please."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They walked arm in arm through the port city on the African shores. Sarah was dressed in a frilly dark green gown that hugged her waist snugly and dipped low to reveal the curve of her ample bosom. Jack nearly drooled every time he looked at her. Her hair was swept up in back, curls cascading down said back in waves. Their business offloading their share of the purloined cargo was complete, and Jack's purse was heavy with gold coins. Gunther was tucked securely in the crook of his mistress's free arm, watching the crowd around them with his glowing golden eyes.

The crew had been given their shares, and freedom to spend them in whatever manner they desired. For most, this meant wenching and drinking. Some would attempt to earn even more by gambling, with varying degrees of success. Jack and Sarah were returning to the vessel, to consummate the end of the two week waiting period. Sarah shivered with heightened sensory perception.

The tread of Jack's boots, the jangle of his hair trinkets, the rustle of his clothes all combined in a sensual orchestra in her ears. He'd deliberately pulled back his sleeve before offering his arm, so her hand tucked demurely under his elbow left her fingers able to brush against his bare skin. She could feel the bumps of his gooseflesh. The sight of him, his lean body and handsome face, as they kept giving each other covert glances, fueled the fire within them.

They reached the Pearl, went up the gangplank and greeted the evening watch courteously. The pirates grinned as Captain and Lady hurried into the great cabin and barred the door. Jack hung up his coat and hat while Sarah placed Gunther in his hammock. The cat had accepted this as his resting place now.

Sarah turned around to see him laying his scabbard and pistol aside, and remove his belts. Only the sash remained around his waist. His eyes were smoky and full of passionate communication when he glanced at her. She went swiftly to his side, terribly excited by this merest of undressing on his part. Sex, she wanted sex so badly, wanted his naked hot body between her legs and pistoning them both into oblivion. He seized her and brought her hard against his body. He held the back of her head, under her hair clip, with one strong hand.

She was expecting a savage dominating kiss. He surprised her a whisper soft brush of his full lips. He barely grazed her lips, then brought his tongue into play to outline her mouth with only the tip. She tried to press closer, he would not allow it. His free hand roamed freely over the front of her gown, brazenly touching the swells of her breasts offered by the neckline. Her lips were parted eagerly for him, and he flicked his tongue over her teeth now. Finally, he deepened the kiss but still kept it so soft and tender.

Soon she was gasping for breath at his masterful mouth. He dipped his head lower, then pulled back, then side to side to achieve a new angle. His hand on her breasts tweaked her nipples through the layers of cloth. Sarah was helpless beneath this onslaught. It finally occurred to her to touch him as well. With her ladies skirt it was difficult to press against his lower body. But when she tried to get her hand between them, he released her mouth and stepped back.

She let out a moan of frustration as she grabbed for him. His eyes were unnaturally bright, his chest heaved. Her eyes raked over him, lingering on the swell raising his breeches away from his body. "I need no encouragement love. Don't touch me just now. At least, not there!" A wicked gleam of those eyes, a wicked twist of his lips, and he pressed right back in for more heavenly kisses.

Now his tongue was brazen. He pushed it into her eager mouth and invited hers to come play. Sarah shoved her tongue against his teeth and explored his mouth freely. He was quiescent, trembling beneath her mastery of his lips. She took advantage of the permission to touch his upper body, and stroked places on his body that she knew drove him mad. The sensitive spots behind his ears, his shoulders where they joined his neck, the small of his back and the bones of his spine. Jack was whimpering into her mouth within a few seconds.

He pulled back again, breathing heavy and ragged. His fingers trembled as he unlaced her bodice, which fastened up the front on this dress. Pulling it open, his eyes roved over her breasts. Sarah's nipples rose just from him looking at them, and she thrust them out, hoping he would take them into his hot mouth. Instead, he turned her around so her back was to him. The brush of his fingers as he moved her hair aside made her shudder and mewl with want. Now his kisses were on her bared shoulders and upper back. He held her around the waist, grinding into her bottom.

Sarah's legs were weak. Jack moved them so that the table was right before her, and she clutched it, grateful for some support. His teeth worried gently at the side of her neck while his tongue lashed and tasted. Sarah felt his hands just behind her, unfastening his breeches. Hot shivers swept over her body from head to toe. Jack's mouth slowly left her, but his arms went back around her waist. His hot breath cascaded over her ear while she waited desperately for his next move.

His tongue lapping at her lobe and the curve of her ear made her beg. "Jack...please! Enough torture!"

"Lift your skirts love. Turn around and raise 'em high for me," his voice a sinful purr in her ear.

She obeyed him, exposing her legs and hips while he watched her. When she had them far enough up to please him, his hands once again circled her waist and he lifted her. Setting her bare bottom on the edge of the table, he nestled between her legs. She locked her arms around his neck. "That's it," he whispered, "hold on to me."

His hands held her tush tightly, balancing her on the edge of the table. Her position was precarious, she clung to him for stability. Jack pushed into her slowly, gasping with pleasure as his entry opened her wet folds more fully. He moaned as he sheathed himself completely. "Oh God!" Jack rested his head on her shoulder, body trembling violently.

She wiggled into him, anxious for him to start thrusting. His hands tightened on her bottom. "Don't move love! Want this to last more 'n a few seconds!"

She had to content herself with stroking his marvelous mane of hair while he regained some control of himself. At last he pulled back, creating all kinds of friction and heat, then plunged back into her amid a spray of wetness. Both of them cried out. He kept up a slow movement in and out of her, mouth buried in the crook of her neck, suckling and mouthing. Overwhelming feelings of heat swamped over her, dragging her body down. She felt heavy all over, but particularly between her legs where Jack thrust.

"God, you're so tight! So wet and good!" He was moaning continuously. He flung his head back and she beheld his taut straining throat, his tense face with closed eyes.

Immediately she attacked that tender neck, suckling and licking to pay him back for his torturous kisses to her a moment ago. She wanted to break his control over the smooth even strokes he was giving her now, and make him pound her. With that intent in mind, she squeezed her satiny inner muscles tightly around him. He grunted, responding with a deep rapacious plunge. "Ohhh, not fair, Sarah!"

She did it again, and Jack cried an unintelligible sounding phrase. Perhaps a prayer for strength, or mercy, who knew? "Lean back darlin."

Carefully she placed her hands behind her, propping herself on the table. Her breasts jiggled freely above the lowered bodice bunched around her stomach. She watched a trickle of sweat drip from his neck and disappear under his shirt, which he still had on. Apparently the sight of her was too tempting for him, he instantly bent over and licked her nipples. Jack moved back and forth, greedily licking, his angle causing him to jab in short strokes right at the entrance to her vagina. The double stimulation sent her flying over the edge.

When she'd finished shaking and keening, she opened her eyes to discover Jack staring at her with a look of intense concentration. He'd straightened back up, and now reached one hand where they were joined. He placed a fingertip on either side of the little nub at the top of her fleshy lips, and twisted his fingers. Instantly she was catapulted back into intense desire. Jack punished her with long pounding strokes, holding back for long torturous moments before plunging all the way back inside her.

Sarah writhed on the table, trembling arms still propping her up. Jack's fingers were extremely gentle as they stroked up and down the sides of her clitoris, jerking quickly. She wondered desperately how he could hold back like this, how he could control those breathless pauses and powerful pushes. His face now showed just how hard he was battling for control and he kept crying out as he moved. Sarah's eyes rolled back in her head, her body jerked and danced under his tormenting fingers. She screamed as what felt like lightning strikes bloomed over her body.

Through her haze of bliss she saw Jack's tormented face. He was struggling, not to hold back this time, but to fly with her. Jack's thrusts became forceful, fast and wild. Suddenly, his face smoothed over into perfect peace, his eyes and mouth opened wide, and he was coming. The most delightful noises of 'Uhh! Uhh! Uhh!' were repeated over and over. He bellowed his release and she felt the hard jolts of his cock deep inside her. His orgasm went on for quite a bit of time for him. She managed to get her arms back around his neck to hold him close to her during it.

They collapsed together atop the table. Sarah wrapped her legs around his waist to keep him close to her. She didn't want to ever let him go. They gasped together for a bit. She felt Jack nuzzling her ear. "That was very good," he rumbled in satisfaction. "Let's never wait that long again."

He raised himself up on his hands to peer at her face. "It's one thing when I'm at sea. But when we're together, I can't bear to not make love to you."

She could only agree. Jack regained the strength of his legs enough to sweep her into his arms and carry her to the bed. He ran loving hands over her face and through her hair, murmuring love words to her. "My beautiful Sarah. My darling, mine, always." He burrowed into her arms, his heartbeat strong against hers. Nestled together, they kissed passionately. His last words before drowsiness claimed him was that she was his refuge.


	14. Pink Diamonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is a bold pirate. With a bold wife. They undertake quite a bold adventure together!

The slaves has been placed back on their homeland, shore leave had been celebrated, and Sarah had refused to part with her cheetah. Jack was exasperated with her. She argued that he was too small to survive, so far she still had to feed him by hand. He pointed out, quite patiently he thought, that the other cheetahs would take him in. Sarah beseeched eloquently that she was fond of him, and could she please keep him a little longer, and she would release him after they left the Seychelles.

Jack stalked the deck, eyes roving over the horizon. The large island of Madagascar was visible. There, he planned to find a shaman he knew of, and attempt the audacious trick of retrieving objects on the bottom of the sea. If he could pull this off, he would be reckoned the greatest of all the Pirate Lords. No one would ever be able to best him!

His eyes caught a movement to his right. Looking, he frowned thunderously. Striding slowly to the cowering cat, he bent and lifted Gunther by the scruff of his neck. He held the cub, who was noticeably larger than when he'd been found, up to his eye level and coolly stared into the golden orbs. Gunther cringed and mewed piteously. "Sarah!"

Sarah hurried to Jack's side, already knowing the problem, since she had to step over it to get to him. He made his voice as scathing as possible. "Your...pet...has soiled the deck of me ship."

She met his stare calmly. "He's been using the straw down below where the goats are penned. But it's wretched down there, and I just finished mucking it out." With great dignity, she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and wiped sweat off her brow with the back of her hand. "Put him down Jack. I will clean it."

He felt rather badly to have taken her to task for this, in front of the men scurrying around them. Most of them were pointedly not looking at their captain. Jack lowered the little cat to the deck and looked sheepishly at his wife. She raised an eyebrow and snapped her fingers. Gunther scampered to her feet.

They talked that night, while preparing for bed. "Why don't we just ask Calypso to help us get the diamonds?" She fingered her wedding ring. "Why do we need this shaman to help us with his..what did you call it? Bag of spells?"

"No!" Jack responded vehemently. "I want no more favors and exchanges with her. Leave well enough alone, Sarah. She's done enough for us."

Sarah touched his cheek gently and he snapped, pulling her tightly into his arms. His trembling hands stroked her hair over and over. "If we stay out of her way, if we lie low, maybe she'll forget about us," he said hoarsely. "Forget about the bargain she made with you. And you can drink the Water again."

Sarah closed her eyes in grief. Her promise to Calypso to trade her life for William Turner's colored every day of her existence. Though it was many years away, she knew eventually she would hear the inevitable ticking of a clock, as all mortals do. And what would Jack do then? She had dragged his life and considerations into this promise to die one day. She knew he valued his life above everything else.

Two days later they dropped anchor in a dingy little port on the western part of Madagascar. They strode together though a small fishing village until reaching the outskirts, where a solitary hut squatted in the mud. Jack walked to it unhesitatingly. Without pause he thrust aside the curtain over the opening, ducked his head, and entered. Sarah followed a bit more slowly. Inside, a little old man, brown as a peanut and with a face deeply lined with wrinkles, tended a pot above the firepit in the middle of the dirt floor.

He looked placidly at Jack, who sat down opposite him and crossed his legs comfortably. Sarah sat down a bit behind and next to him. The old man did not even glance at her. Jack immediately launched into a strange language which involved a lot of sibilant hissing and tongue clicking. The old man listened, nodding at intervals. Listening, Sarah reflected that nothing Jack could do shocked her anymore. If he suddenly sprouted wings and jumped off the mainmast of the Pearl to fly into the sunshine, she would laugh in delight and clap her hands with surprise, but not truly be shocked.

Eventually the old shaman began gesturing and conversing back to Jack. To follow the dialogue, Sarah focused on her husband's body language. She enjoyed his many hand gestures, the tilts of his head and the expressions on his face. Just now he looked happy and pleased with himself. The shaman nodded, and Jack held up his compass.

The old man rummaged in a chest that sat behind him. In a whispered aside to Sarah, Jack explained. "I've asked him to show his powers. A test, if you will. He'll magick the compass, and if he gets it working right, we'll know his spells will hold."

The shaman took the compass from Jack's fingers and held up a vial. He tipped it over as if pouring a drop of something, but nothing emerged from the opening of the vial. With a solemn expression, he handed it back to Jack, who raised an eyebrow. He obligingly opened it and checked it's reading. Sarah could not quite see where it pointed but wherever it's direction, Jack seemed very pleased.

He tucked it back to his waist and continued his spirited negotiations with the man. Now it became much more intense, with long convoluted sentences and much gesturing by both parties. At one point the shaman reached into the chest and began removing various pouches and bottles, lining them up carefully. Then he spoke one rather short sentence. Jack's lips twitched. He was not pleased.

He spoke now in persuasive, wheedling tones. Sarah found herself nodding in agreement just at the tone, not even knowing what he was saying. Jack spoke for a fair bit of time, but the shaman merely shook his head. He glanced at Sarah, a lingering glance, the first and only time he acknowledged her presence. Jack sighed, smiled his most charming smile, and rattled off something that sounded like a question. The answer was one word and emphatic. Jack nodded, to Sarah's eyes looking absolutely miserable.

The shaman handed over the spells, and Jack silently placed them in the pouch on his belt. He put an arm quite possessively around his wife's shoulders and led her swiftly away. "Jack!" She had to trot to keep up with his long strides. "What happened? You took the spells, I take it he agreed to help then? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just want to get this done. I want those diamonds." There was something he was not telling her, but she shrugged mentally, and concluded that eventually he would reveal what had disturbed him in the shaman's hut.

Standing on the ship, he set out each spell, explaining what it would do. "This one will make a bubble of air around the ship. We'll have a limited amount of time before the air goes bad. This one causes her to sink, and there's a counterspell for making her rise again. This spell will guard us against any monsters of the deep."

Listening to him talk, Sarah felt a deep chill go through her. They were really going to do this. They were going to sail the Pearl to the bottom of the ocean! "What if the spells don't work?" she whispered.

He merely looked at her. She already knew the answer to that. "Just how well do you trust this shaman's power?" She licked suddenly dry lips and tried to keep her breathing steady.

"Are you ready?" He asked quietly.

She took a deep steadying breath and nodded. The men who'd chosen to come with them all looked nervous as Jack lifted the first spell. It was a vial, and when he unstoppered it and tipped it over the prow of the ship, a dark oily substance oozed out. Jack looked disgruntled at the mess, but the magic took hold immediately. The Pearl tipped and began to lower into the water.

"Light all the lamps. All of them! Bring candles out onto the deck!" Jack ordered as he lifted the second spell, a bag, and opened it.

The sound of hissing wind emerged and the water enveloping the vessel was first held at bay, then expanded in a large circle around her. As soon as there was light, they all stood looking at the eerie sight of the waterline above their head. A few held their breaths, a few breathed quite cautiously. Only Jack seemed unaffected, but Sarah noted his eyes darting around.

They sank lower, and Jack raised a third item. It resembled a long thin stone, but it was brittle. He broke it in half, and it crumbled to powder which swirled around the ship in a growing cloud. At a questioning glance from Gibbs, Jack explained. "Keeps the ship from being crushed by the weight of the water."

The Captain glanced at his helmsman. "How you holding up there, mate?" he asked.

Cotton looked absolutely agog. His hands were slack on the pegs of the wheel but at his question they tightened. The Spanish bird on his head pecked him once, mightily, and croaked out, "Comer mi!" (Eat me!) Jack blinked in confusion.

He opened the compass and stood for awhile next to Cotton, murmuring directions and headings to an unknown land. Sarah stood close beside Jack, paying no mind to his words but wanting the comfort of his presence. The world beneath the waves was strange, bizarre, and utterly gorgeous. It was also alien and terrifying.

Suddenly she paled and tugged frantically on Jack's sleeve. When he jerked his head in her direction, she could only point at the huge whale drifting off the port stern. A monster indeed, though far away it was obvious its size dwarfed the Pearl many times over. It's massive tail waved slowly back and forth, propelling it through the water swiftly. Jack gasped, fumbled quickly in his pouch and withdrew the repellent spell.

The whale seemed to be paying no mind to them but it didn't hurt to be prepared. Sharks infested these waters after all. This spell was another vial, and when Jack poured it's silvery contents out, they joined the air bubble. The whale veered away and swam off.

The Pearl landed with a soft thunk on the sandy bottom. The crew peered around, leaning just slightly past the rail where the envelope of air extended. Now that they'd reached their goal, they had new problems. One, how to actually find two small jewels in all this murkiness and two, how to actually transport them from the sea bottom to the Pearl. None of them could leave the ship without certain death.

Several men held lanterns aloft and strained their eyes. It was Marty who spotted them, resting near a bright red thing that looked remarkably like grass, with fish darting in and out of the fronds.

"Never thought I'd actually want to see that cursed monkey," Jack muttered contemplatively. If that undead little pet were here, he could sent it to fetch the jewels.

"Captain!" Snaky called tersely. He was staring up past the mainmast grimly. They all looked up, to see a child floating in the water, looking down at the ship with curious eyes.

The crew exclaimed in horror. "Demon child!" "It's a ghost, a spectre!" "We're doomed!" "It's a sign of our death!"

Sarah shouted from the quarter deck. "It's Joie de Mer! It's the sea goddess and the ferryman's daughter!" Though Will was no longer Calypso's Captain, those were the only words to get the frightened men's attention.

Awed, they watched the child as she drifted closer to the ship without seeming to make any effort at all. She spotted Sarah, and looked happy to see her. Sarah was the one to have brought her into the world. Joie being half goddess, was uniquely able to remember every moment of her life since conception and recognized Sarah. Then she saw Jack and her grin lit up her entire face.

She swam right up to the edge of the bubble where he stood frozen and dumbfounded. She did not try to breach the spells, though Jack had no doubt that she could if she chose. The supernatural child stared at him in frank curiosity. Jack was hypnotized by her gaze.

Sarah made her way down the steps and next to him. "Can you hear me Joie?" she questioned in a low voice.

Joie nodded and answered at once. "Yes Sarah. Hi!"

"Hi darling. Are you out playing? Where's your mum?"

Joie shrugged disinterestedly. "She's Ferrying. I didn't want to go this time. It's booooring!" She proclaimed this last in a self important tone.

Sarah couldn't help smiling at how like any other child she really was. Yet here they were, having a conversation about dead souls, deep under the surface of the ocean. "Well, I wonder something. Would you like Jack to tell you a story? About how he was ferried like the dead, and came back?"

The man in question jerked in startlement. Sarah went on serenely. "He's an amazing story teller, but would you first please do something for him? He likes a bit of payment for his tales, after all."

"What do you want!" eager little bouncing girl asked Jack, looking at him with wide eyes.

"See those shiny little things, sweetie? Would you give them to Jack? He can't reach them."

"Oh sure. Easy." Joie swam over to the anemone and snatched up the jewels.

Jack held his breath in anticipation. She swam straight back over to him, and gently pressed her hand against the spell that contained them. Her hand slid through the membrane and emerged dripping wet to touch Jack's wrist. He was stunned at this turn of events, yet still alert enough to be able to hold out his hand. She dropped the rarest diamonds in the world into his cupped palm.

Joie withdrew her hand as nonchalantly as if she'd just put her hand in a puddle. "Now tell me the story! I never knew you died Jack! How did you get back from the Land of the Dead?"

He stared at the treasure in his hand. His head was reeling. He glanced behind him at the agog faces of his crew. Every last one of them was gobsmacked. Sarah looked dazzled as well, but somehow she was holding on to her composure, barely. She took the diamonds from his hand and mouthed the word, "Talk!"

Oh yes. He owed a demi goddess girl a bedtime story. He told it well, in his characteristic flamboyance. Meanwhile, Sarah went to Cotton, who was grinning from ear to ear. The old pirate flat out refused to accept the diamonds from her hand. He pushed her hand away, closing her fingers around the near priceless treasure. The bird squawked, "Gracias, amiga! Gracias!"

Joie swam away, and the last spell was cast. Another bag, which exploded into feathers, which disappeared as the ship lurched up from her resting place and rose through the waters. The Pearl burst up out of the water in a style quite reminiscent of how the Dutchman used to rise, spraying water in all directions. Sailors, relieved to be in the open air again, raised a wild cheer as the protective bubble popped.

Jack drew Sarah to him so her head rested on his chest. Why was he trembling so? "Where to next, my Captain?"

"Now we pay the shaman."


	15. Payment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The shaman needs to be paid. And he will take what he wants.

They stood several feet away from the shaman's hut, speaking in hushed whispers. Jack had led her there after docking, and seemed increasingly upset and jittery. Sarah confronted him.

"All right, out with it, Jack. What are we paying the shaman with?" She placed her hands on her hips expectantly.

"I offered him anything. Anything I had, except my ship. Swag, the compass, even one of the diamonds. He insisted..." Jack trailed off, swallowing hard.

"On?"  
"A night with you," he whispered miserably.

For a moment she thought she'd misheard him. Then her eyes widened. "Me? A night with me. You agreed to pay the shaman. With me."

Jack gave her a mildly reproving look. "I don't plan to ever let anyone but yours truly have you, ever, Sarah. You know that, don't you? I promised him what he wanted, doesn't mean I've any intention of keeping said promise. We'll get out of it."

She rolled her eyes. All his frantic shifting stopped. "You don't want to be angering powerful magicians, as a general rule, darling. Me Pearl came through unscathed, and we've got our treasure. That was the whole and best idea behind the negotiations."

And the full realization of Jack's choice struck her. This shaman was very strong, and if he hadn't acceded to his wishes, the adventure would have gone very badly for them. Appeasing him was the only thing on Jack's mind. If he had disagreed with the shaman, the spells might have had the opposite effect they were supposed to. Sarah began to pace, frustrated. She dismissed her angry feelings at his lack of proper foresight and his serene faith that he could wiggle out of it somehow, which placed her in a precarious position.

"I'll offer him a diamond."

"Already did."

She cast him a rather scornful glance. "Women have ways of speaking more loudly than words, my love." She dug in her pocket for the precious jewels.

He began to answer her when the curtain over the shaman's doorway was pulled back. He strode out, heading straight for where they stood. Time was up. Sarah angled her body towards him, and held out her hand towards him. She offered an engaging, wide toothed smile. On her palm a pink diamond glittered, a temptation to any covetous man. The shaman closed his larger hand over hers, and pulled her towards him.

Jack watched helplessly as the old man dragged her along behind him into the hut. She had time to cast one uncertain look at him before disappearing into the shaman's power.  
The shaman's hand was gentle but quite powerful. He brought her to the firepit and pushed her down near it until she knelt where Jack had been sitting earlier. Her heart pounded in terrible nervousness, believing that he would next force her to lie down. He was so old! She thought in wonder. How can he want...is he even able..?

The old man released her hand and walked around to take up his own place opposite her. Sarah frowned. What was he doing now? She felt immense relief that her ordeal would be delayed, though she did not know for how long. Her mind reviewed the possibilities for a way out of this. He busied himself with brown earthenware mugs and a kettle of something steaming on the edge of the firepit. He filled both mugs, and gave her one.

Sarah took it very hesitantly. A drink first? Was she being wooed? Pleasant, aromatic smells drifted up from the contents but she didn't want to drink. She had no idea what magic or potion might be entering her body to place her even more in the power of this mysterious man. He leaned forward, tufted brows lowering angrily. He brought his own mug to his lips, and pointed imperiously at her. It was clear what he expected, Sarah didn't even need the mumbled words accompanying his gesture to understand.

She sipped, and was surprised to find a thick and unbearably sweet liquid contained within. Her chef's tongue detected hints of chocolate, and anise, and the aftertaste kicked strongly like heady alcohol. It spread lassitude and pleasure through her limbs, filled her head with a curious kind of smoke. While she drank, she wondered if some kind of aphrodisiac was in the drink.

Jack walked in restless circles. Gunther kept pace with him, glancing frequently at the man and yowling anxiously. When Jack paused in thought, the cheetah dug his claws in the ground and scratched, sharpening them. The pirate seemed totally unaware of any external events as he paced and pondered. The cheetah butted his head against Jack's leg to get his attention.

Jack knelt down and absently caressed Gunther's back. It was the first time he'd touched the animal with any kind of affection. Gunther stared deeply into Jack's eyes, hypnotic gold eyes with black centers seeming to command the man's attention. "What should we do, fella? Hmmm?" he mumbled distractedly.

'He's in there with your wife. Apparently quite ready to have a night with her. Not good! Not good! THINK, man! What else can you offer him? I've offered everything I have. She's MINE! Mine to have, mine to protect, mine to cherish. Just how important were those diamonds anyway? Help her!'

Jack tugged his beard dingles. He glanced speculatively at the cheetah. Rare and beautiful animal, strange and powerful man who needs to be paid. 'Wonder if I can get Sarah to agree to giving up her pet? In a few minutes, she might agree to anything to get out of where she is.' The thought gave Jack horrid chills.

While she drank, the old man took a leather pouch and tossed some kind of powder on the flames. The powder looked metallic. Strange and very beautiful shapes began to dance in the flames. Sarah felt detached, as if she were watching from somewhere else and her body was no longer her own. A figure of Jack took shape in the fire. Fascinated, she watched his mouth move. She couldn't hear him, but the words were clear. 'Yes, I lied to you. No, I don't love you.' A stab of dismay raced through her. Would Jack get tired of being bound to her, would he seek more variety, and leave her?

A image of her rose in the smoke above the fire. Smoke Sarah stood with smoke children and watched Jack carelessly walk away from them. Suddenly, smoke soldiers raced at him from another direction, and shot him. Swamping fear filled her as he dropped lifelessly to the ground. No! She didn't want Jack to die, not that vibrant life! Not that curious and quick mind, silenced forever! NO! Across from her, the shaman's eyes sharpened keenly on her.

The images cleared and Sarah panted where she still kneeled. She attempted to control her terror. This was magic, some kind of bizarre trick to make her lower her defenses. She shook her head in confusion. How did this help the shaman bed her? And how on earth could she avoid that fate? She struggled to focus on her situation. Where was Jack now? Standing outside waiting for morning? Her own face rose before her from the fire, wreathed in fragrant smoke. The youthful planes of her face sagged and wrinkled. Her lustrous black hair greyed, then whitened, then thinned until it faded away. Her lush dancer's body wasted away, years dancing by in the space of heartbeats until she was a wraith. Hideous brown spots pocked her paper thin wrinkled skin and bald head. Her eyes were sunken in their sockets, her mouth was toothless and caving in on itself.

Debilitating fear filled her, pinned her in place. Her memory supplied Calypso's words. "Promise me you will not drink the Youth water anymore." Horror as she faced the possible consequences of that promise. Sarah shook as terror and fear gripped her body and her mind.

Jack's mind raced furiously. The shaman wanted a night with his beautiful Sarah...he wanted a woman! Of course! Being such a dreaded figure of magic and power, it couldn't be easy for him to get a girl. Well, Jack would offer him TWO women, fine wenches, and take his Sarah home where she belonged! He snapped his fingers and turned towards the hut. It was then that he heard his lady's scream.

Thought left him and he leapt forward, drawing his sword. Slashing through the curtain, he charged in, and beheld Sarah. She was kneeling before the fire, smoke filled the room. She was taut and trembling as if stretched on a rack, and looked as terrified as the night he'd met her, trapped in another pirate's embrace. Some kind of colorful streaming cloud was emitting from her open mouth. The shaman was leaning forward, tipping a vial towards her as if to capture the clouds.

He grabbed Sarah around the waist and pulled her to her feet. Gunther snarled and pounced, small mouth open, fangs threatening as he landed in the shaman's lap. Jack shoved her protectively behind him, and aimed the edge of the blade close to the old man's throat. "No more. She's mine!" he growled, forgetting in his wrath to to speak the shaman's language.

The shaman attempted to pull the raging little cat off of him. His arms were getting severely clawed when Sarah spoke two terse words. "Gunther. Come."

The old man spoke to Jack with a steady rolling sentence. The pirate listened, then spoke back in an angry snarl. He lowered his sword, and backed away, keeping his body between the man and Sarah. Once they were clear of the hut, he dropped the sword and pulled his wife close. He kept yanking her closer, trying to assure himself of her safety, until she was nearly crushed by his concern. Gunther mewed frantically and raced around their feet.

"Are you all right?" he asked hoarsely. "What the hell happened in there?"

"What did he say," she answered him with a question of her own. "At the end, what did he say?"

Jack clenched in anger. "The whoreson claimed, 'I did not hurt her, and I made her better for you.'" He swallowed several times to keep from bellowing his rage at the implications of that. "I answered that I wished I could kill him, shaman or no."

Pulling back a bit, Sarah shivered as if cold. She hugged her arms around her chest and glanced at the shaman's hut. "He's right, he didn't hurt me. The night with me that he wanted, was not what we thought it was. He doesn't seem to be evil. Just very....strange." Another shiver racked her. "Thank you for getting me out," she said in a little, remote kind of voice.

It was a society voice, as if she was thanking him for dropping by for tea. Then she looked at him, no she looked right through him, and her eyes were stunned. He'd seen that look before, on a man who had a cannon go off next to his head. He went deaf, and looked quite a bit as if he simply didn't know what to do anymore, didn't know how to walk, or eat, or lie down to sleep.

She looked at him with those not there eyes, and for just a moment, regarding the results of his own tendency to agree now, negotiate later, Jack hated himself with black loathing fury. He should never have let her go into the shaman's hut. He snatched her into his arms fiercely. His chest heaved as his hands ran all over her, feeling how cold she was. Slowly, only one thought crystallized in his mind; to warm her and bring her back to full and wonderful awareness.

Jack hauled her towards the edge of the village, and the Pearl, with exactly that intention in mind. She was unresisting as he brought her into the cabin and wrapped her in blankets. Only his kisses seemed to finally affect her and she suddenly came alive again in his arms. 

“Jack! I'm not afraid. It's all right my love, my pirate. It's all right!” Sarah caressed his face, wiped the tears he had not realized were on his cheeks away. “Something happened in that hut. I think we did pay the shaman Jack. I think he took something from me.”

He stiffened at that, fear and rage filling him. But her soft kisses on his mouth distracted him and he didn't get to finish wondering what the shaman had taken from his wife. 

Her worst fears.


	16. Amazing daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will confesses to Elizabeth what he's been doing on his fishing trips. Their sons are also told what he's been up to.

"Elizabeth, I have to talk to you." William drew his wife into the kitchen, where they might be relatively undisturbed. "I have something to tell you."

"What is it?" She met his gaze with the sweet smile he remembered her having even as a girl.

He held her hand gently, knowing he was about to dredge up bad memories. "Do you remember when Calypso battled us, and enchanted you as a figurehead?"

Sure enough, her face clouded. "Yes...I don't remember actually being transformed. For me, it was like suddenly everyone was in a different position, and you had disappeared. You were talking to Calypso in your quarters."

"She and I bargained. She agreed to let you go. And I gave her something." He paused and stared significantly in her eyes. "You know what that something was."  
Now her eyes were downcast, and she heaved a heavy sigh. She well remembered seeing the goddess's child, and realizing that Will had fathered her, to set Elizabeth free. A bargain, to let him have children with her, a child for a child, so to speak.

Will stroked her cheek. "I should have told you about this before. But I didn't want to remind you of that time."

"Told me about what? I already knew about....oh God. Calyso's going to claim you again, isn't she? This time with us was just a reprieve...you have to go back don't you!" Elizabeth began to panic, chest heaving in rapid bursts.

"No Elizabeth. No." Her husband said firmly. "She's released me from the duty, I'm truly free. Though I still feel her presence with me sometimes. And seem to hear her voice." He pulled her into his arms and stroked her back until she calmed.

"What I mean to tell you now, is that my daughter has been visiting me." She pulled back and gave him a shocked look. He went on, "That's what the fishing trips were really about."  
"Your daughter. The sea goddess's daughter." His wife's voice was a bit skeptical.

"My daughter." He stressed the 'my' quite firmly.

There was a long pause while Elizabeth twined her fingers nervously. "What's she like?" she finally asked quietly.

Will couldn't help a grin of delight. "She's wonderful. She's curious and smart, and affectionate. In many ways just like any little one. But she's also amazing, she had incredible powers inherited from her mother."

Elizabeth sighed a teeny little sigh. "Have the boys seen her as well? Are they...safe...with her?" The second question was quite pointed, but what she really meant was, am I the only one who didn't know about this little relationship? 

He peered into her face. "Jealousy doesn't become you, Elizabeth."

Now she met his eyes, and hers were dark with strong emotion. "I love you. I always have. I gave you sons. I am your wife!" Unspoken but understood was the rest. I deserve your loyalty.

He settled his hands on her shoulders, thumbs lightly caressing her neck. "Yes, my wife. That's exactly why I did it. So you could remain my wife, and have those beautiful boys with me. I didn't give Joie a second thought once she was conceived, but she seems to think well of me, and wants my affection. And I've discovered that I love her."

Elizabeth looked at him steadily but it was clear she didn't quite know what to make of this. Will waited patiently, and at last she voiced the rest of her thoughts. "And suppose Calypso wants more from you? Suppose she decides that Joie needs a father with her always, and demands that you...be with her?"

Will smiled and pressed a light kiss to her nose. "I doubt that very much. She has what she wanted after all, a companion. She's not likely to demand more. Our accord was very clear. Now that this is out in the open, I'd like the boys to see their sister, with your permission, Elizabeth. And you as well. So you can see what a charming girl she really is." He excitedly outlined his hopes, expressed his fatherly pride in his only daughter.

Elizabeth allowed herself to be persuaded, to get caught up a bit in his fervor. In the back of her mind a tiny seed of doubt remained. She'd been given a classical education, as befitted the upper class she'd been born into. Mythology was all about the gods and goddesses. And what they wanted most, all of them, was power. And love. Something told Elizabeth Turner, that this matter was not resolved at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elizabeth watched them troop off, the boys so proud to be out with papa, and Will looking so delighted with his task. She pressed a hand to her throat, feeling an unreasonable twinge of fear. Why should she be afraid? Joie is only a little girl! The daughter of a goddess, with power of her own. His child by another woman, that's all! No need to fret! Disgusted with herself, she turned impatiently away from the window.

Will's sons bounced along beside him, frequently bursting into dashes in front of him. Cool crispness of spring freshened the pale winter color of their cheeks. He looked forward so much to this first meeting between siblings. Will felt utterly complete, to be able to reconcile the two halves his existence had become lately. Walking on land, enjoying every one of his children, Will had never felt more alive and joyful and at peace.

They reached the cove where Joie customarily greeted him. She was already there, which surprised him. Normally Will had to wait for her, and be surprised by the form she took when she did arrive. It was like a game they played, to see if he could recognize her before she took human form.

As they approached, the boys suddenly turned shy and hung from their father's hands. Laughing, Will walked right up to the little girl. Joie turned an unhappy face to him. Seeing the boys, her eyes squinted and she looked meanly at them. Ignoring them completely, she got up and looked at Will. "Hello father." But this time she made no move to hug him as she normally did.

Will's smile faded. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" He inquired. 

"Nothing," she glanced at Willy, then started long and curiously at Jack.

Seeing those two, Joie and Jack, together for the first time, made him realize how very alike they were. They truly could pass for twins born from the same womb. It was extremely disconcerting. "Joie, these are my sons, William and Jackson. Boys, your sister."

Willy glared at her. "Hi," he said between gritted teeth.

Little Jack smiled quite sweetly at her. Joie didn't seem able to take her eyes off him. The gentle, sunshiny little boy went to Joie and put an arm around her shoulders. They smiled identical smiles at each other.

"What makes YOU so special?" Willy spat. "You were an accident, he actually lives with us!"

Joie cast him an evil glare in return. "Really? Did you know he made me special, just so my mother would leave you alone?" Her smirk was quite self satisfying.

Willy seethed inside. His eyes shot daggers at the little girl. Will was not quite sure why there was such a hostile reaction. He was pleased that Jack seemed unaffected by the sullen undercurrents. Willy sat on the flat rock and spoke little during the ensuing visit. It was left to the father to attempt to entertain all three without further outbreaks. He was quite relieved at the end of the visit, when he succeeded rather decently.


End file.
